by Regina Scott
She thought he might argue, but he merely nodded. “Then may I see you to your room?”
She knew the others were watching them. They had to be wondering how highly she held James in her affections. Even with their temporary engagement, it was best not to give anyone the wrong impression. She pulled her hand gently from his.
“Mr. McKenzie showed me the way earlier. Good night, gentlemen, and thank you for a lovely evening.”
They all climbed to their feet as she left. Even in the wild, it seemed, they knew how to honor a lady.
And she felt like a lady for the first time in a long time as she closed the door to the room Mr. McKenzie had given her and leaned against the planed wood. Oh, she’d never be a princess. But tonight, when James had held her hand and gazed at her, she’d felt as if she was the most important person in the room.
Perhaps the most important person in his life.
No, no. She couldn’t dwell on that. She pushed off the door and went to see how she might settle for the night. Mr. McKenzie had a large bed, straw tick on ropes if the give of it as she sat was any indication. Its bounce made her think of the dance, how James had smiled, the way he’d held her. She knew why he was giving her his attentions; he’d told her so himself. He wanted her to change her mind, return with him to Wallin Landing. Like her adopted parents, there seemed little he wouldn’t try to meet his goal.
But why? The Fosgraves had been addicted to the trappings of wealth, going to extraordinary lengths to capture and keep them. With his horses, claim and logging income, James had more than many men on the frontier. And she certainly had no inheritance to interest a suitor.
Neither could she believe his claim that only she could teach at Wallin Landing. There must be other teachers in Seattle. And even if they all refused him, as he seemed to think, Mrs. Wallin could have taught Beth and Levi as she had taught her older sons. What was so important about having Rina as their teacher?
The questions nagged at her through the night, but she reached no conclusions by the time they set out the next morning, which was Saturday. Knowing that she was likely to meet Mr. Buckhorn at the Crossing today, she’d put on her best day dress, the purple satin belted at her waist and trimmed with triple rows of white satin banding along the sculpted skirt. Of course, her gray cloak with its voluminous hood hid most of the gown, but just wearing the dress made her feel regal, confident.
Mist shrouded the forest as she came out of the cabin. Voices echoed from the barn, James saying goodbye to Deerlund as he harnessed the horses.
“You stop by anytime, Sister Fosgrave,” McKenzie told her as she paused in the doorway to wait for James to bring the wagon around. “You’re part of our family, and you’ll always be welcome.”
He lay his hand on her shoulder, heavy, firm, and she felt the conviction behind it. Tears stung her eyes, and she wrapped her arms as far as they would go around him and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you, for everything.”
She thought she saw a tear in his own eye before she hurried to where James was waiting to help her up.
“Made another conquest, I see,” he said as he guided the horses south.
“Made a friend,” she countered, smile forming.
But her pleasure at the thought faded as they continued on their way. The track here seemed to grow narrower with each roll of the wheel, the road more rutted and overgrown. She could barely see the heavy sky through the overlacing branches. Everything hung wet and heavy, as if weighed down by her thoughts.
“I was under the impression that the way to the Crossing was widely used,” she said, ducking under the limb of an encroaching fir that spilled raindrops down her cloak.
“This is a shortcut,” James promised her. “We should reach the Black River soon. From there, it’s straight on to the Crossing.”
The Crossing. By tomorrow, she could be at her new school, surrounded by her new community, her future secured.
And James would be back at McKenzie’s, kicking up his heels without her.
She should not care. What he did after depositing her was none of her concern. Yet she did care, far more than she should.
She heard the problem before she saw it. Ahead came a sound like a rushing wind, growing louder every moment. They rounded a bend, and James reined in. The road simply ended, the ground dropping away to where muddy brown waters boiled down a narrow draw.
“Shouldn’t there be a bridge?” Rina asked. There was no other way he was getting her across that!
“No bridge,” James answered, lowering the reins. “No one could afford to build it or maintain it clear out here. But normally this is an easy ford, the water no higher than a horse’s hock. Something must have happened upstream, a mighty storm, a dam give way.” He glanced at her. “Seems like somebody doesn’t want you to reach the White River, Rina.”
* * *
She didn’t like the thought. James could tell by the way her brows gathered inside the hood of her cloak. Raindrops had spotted the wool with black, making it look as if she had been splashed with mud. Her look was nearly as dark.
“Be that as it may,” she said, “what do we do now?”
“Well, we sure can’t cross.” James eyed the turbulent waters. He’d decided to take a different way to the Crossing, one that might give him a little more time with her, but he hadn’t counted on the river rising. “That’s likely to sweep away the wagon and us with it.”
“I cannot like how it eats at the bank, either,” she said.
James could see what she meant. The rushing waters were degrading the shore, chunks of ground disappearing into mud as he watched.
Though the way was tight, he could turn the team now. But heading back to the main road to the Crossing would cost him his opportunity to convince Rina to give up on the new school. There had to be something else he could do.
“Is there another road?” she asked, gaze turned to his.
“I spotted a side trail a ways back,” James mused. “Looked like it might run parallel to the river. We can follow it for a time, see if the water widens lower down, cross over there. If we don’t find a likely spot, we can backtrack to McKenzie’s.”
Rina stiffened. “Is that your game now? Trying to delay us?”
He wasn’t about to admit it. “You have a high respect for my abilities, ma’am,” he said, making sure to widen his eyes. Ma always said that made him look as innocent as a lamb when she knew he was a tiger. “I can’t control the amount of water in a river.”
“No, but you can control where we meet that river. I think you should take us back to McKenzie’s immediately. Perhaps Mr. Deerlund or Monsieur LaRocque will be willing to escort me south.”
He wasn’t about to let her go with the trappers. They seemed fine fellows and all, but who knew when one would take it in his head to marry her? She’d have a horrid life as a trapper’s wife—either she’d be dragged all over creation to follow the fur trade, or she’d spend all her time waiting for her husband to return.
“I’m not even sure they’re still at McKenzie’s,” he told her. “Your best choice is to stick with me. I’ll get you to the White River.”
Perhaps just not quite as quickly as she’d hoped.
Rina raised her chin. “Very well. But whatever happens, I will not return to Wallin Landing.”
“Whatever you say, ma’am,” he replied, hanging on to the hope that she was wrong.
He managed to turn the wagon and team and go back the way they had come. Sure enough, a tiny trail, little more than the width of the wagon, led off the existing track. He clucked to the horses, who eased the wagon onto the trail. At least it had stopped raining. He could see the way clearly, past rocky hillsides and thick forest.
The lady beside him was stonier, face set and arms crossed over her chest. Surely he could make her smile again
.
“Fine day for a drive,” he ventured.
“Not from where I sit,” she replied.
He leaned closer, gave her his best smile. “Not too late to turn back.”
“I fail to see how you can even turn!” she protested.
“Oh, I’d figure something out,” he said, straightening. “I always do. Just say the word.”
“The word, Mr. Wallin,” she grit out, “is onward.”
So they were back to being prickly again. He sighed. “Is that one of the rules for a teacher—excessive formality? Otherwise I’m certain I’d be James by now.”
“You didn’t give me permission,” she pointed out.
“I didn’t ask it either, Rina,” he replied.
Her lips tightened. “No, you did not, but I doubt my new employers would approve.”
“A shame they aren’t here, or to see you cavorting through the forest with an eligible bachelor.” He wiggled his brows at her.
She regarded him coolly. “We are not cavorting,” she informed him. “We are driving on a public road in full view of anyone who might drive by.”
He glanced around at the trees, then back at her. “Very proper, unless you consider the fact that this is more a trail than a road, and we aren’t likely to see another human being for miles.”
“But we could,” she insisted. “That is the point, Mr. Wallin.”
“James,” he corrected her.
“Fine,” she said. “James. But I think it is clear by our actions that we are not attempting to be clandestine. Therefore, our behavior is completely aboveboard.”
She had the cutest little nose. At the moment, it was high in the air, as if she had no doubt of her convictions.
“So, as long as it’s done in the open, it’s proper?” he asked her.
“Precisely.”
“Good.” He pulled on the reins to halt the horses.
Rina put a hand to the sideboard as the wagon jerked to a stop. “What are you doing?”
“Attempting to persuade you to come home with me,” he said, and he bent and kissed her.
Emotions sparkled, brighter than sunlight through the trees. He wanted to pull her closer, hold her forever. Wherever she was going, he wanted to be beside her.
He reined in his emotions. He’d never wanted to get so close to another person, not after seeing how devastating losing someone you cared for could be. His engagement to Rina would only last another day. He couldn’t afford to have his feelings last longer than that.
He had to remember his only goal was to bring her home to Wallin Landing to teach.
She leaned back, face flushed. “You must stop doing that. My reputation is at stake! If the good people of the White River feel ice cream parlors to be salacious, what do you think they’d consider a teacher who allows a strange gentleman to kiss her?”
There she went, looking at circumstances again. He put his hand on his heart, mouth drooping. “Why, Rina, you wound me. You consider me strange?”
She smacked his arm. “Stop that! This is serious!”
He took up the reins and clucked to his team, who obligingly started forward once more. “No, it isn’t. Life is too short to worry about what other people think of you.”
“This from a man who lives in the wild!” She threw up her hands. “You have only your family to be accountable to, sir. I might have a dozen parents, all concerned that I live as an example to their children.”
He was glad the horses knew what they were doing, for his hands were still shaking from that kiss. “Children who, apparently, are never allowed inside an ice cream parlor,” he reminded her.
She did not so much as chuckle. “Children who are impressionable. I must do nothing that would cause one to stray.”
James shook his head at her obstinacy. “I imagine more than one little boy has stolen a kiss from a little girl in a quiet corner of the schoolyard.”
“But his teacher did not.” Rina sighed. “Forgive me, James, but I must take such matters seriously even if you do not. And I cannot think why you would believe a kiss would convince me to return to Wallin Landing. Surely you would not go so far as to play on my emotions that way.”
Put in that manner, he sounded a bit like a scoundrel. “Certainly not.”
She stared at him. “You did. You thought you could sweeten up the schoolteacher with some compliments and kisses. That is reprehensible!”
Though he was beginning to see her point, he had enough pride that he couldn’t agree with her. “It most certainly is not,” he protested. “At least, I don’t think so, not knowing what reprehensible means. It was just a kiss!”
She held up her fingers. “Two kisses. Or are they so meaningless that you could forget?”
He would never forget either one. Even if she went to the White River, he knew those kisses would stay on his mind to his dying day. But he couldn’t tell her that. He didn’t want her to know how much she was coming to mean to him. Because those kinds of feelings demanded a commitment, one he wasn’t sure either of them was willing to make. One he feared could destroy the carefully constructed walls he’d built around his heart.
He pulled in the reins once more, drawing the wagon to a stop. “The kisses weren’t meaningless, Rina. But not every kiss is a heart-stopping experience.”
“Yours are.”
As soon as she said the words, she clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide over the top of them. She knew what she’d just admitted. She probably thought he’d laugh, call her naive. That was exactly the way he ought to behave if he wanted to keep his heart intact.
But she deserved better than that.
He sobered, turning to face her. “So are yours. But we both agreed this engagement was merely temporary, that we didn’t want to marry. One kiss cannot change that.”
The way she looked at him made him think she was no longer so sure of the matter.
“Good afternoon, friends,” a chipper voice called. “Good of you to come out our way.”
James jerked forward to see a large man with a grizzled beard, shotgun nestled in his burly arms. He stepped out of the woods in front of the team, who were shifting on their feet with unease.
Seeing he had James’s attention, he leveled the gun at Rina. “Throw down your weapons and your valuables, and no one gets hurt.”
Chapter Twelve
James’s arm strayed over the backboard to his rifle. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking us an easy target,” he warned, pulling out the gun.
“You might not be, but your missus is,” the would-be robber said, raising his gun as well. “For me and my partner. Right, Davy?”
“You bet,” came a thick voice behind them. “That gray cape makes a mighty fine target.”
Rina stiffened. James felt cold all over. He set the gun down carefully and raised his hands.
“All right, gents,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “You got the drop on us. But I don’t think you’ll find much for your trouble.”
“We’ll start with your gun,” the front man said, venturing closer. “Hand it over nice and easy like.”
Oh, but he was going to miss that rifle. James offered the miscreant the Spencer, and the robber took it. Then he nodded to Rina.
“Open your cloak, now, ma’am. Let’s see how well your husband has you decked out.”
James thought she might protest, but she unhooked the cloak and held it wide. Something sparkled deep in its folds.
The robber grinned. “That pocket watch will do nicely.”
Rina’s hand closed over the gold case. “It belonged to my...to someone once dear to me.”
A chuckle came from the rear robber. “Heard that one afore.”
That regal air was coming over Rina again, her spine
straightening, her face stiffening. She’d get herself killed over a pocket watch!
James pressed his hand down on her free one in warning. “It’s all right, dear,” he said. “I’ll buy you another on our anniversary.”
He could only hope she’d understand why he was pretending in front of these fellows. It was safer for her if the robbers thought she was married and not an unattached female with no family to avenge her.
She pulled the watch all the way out of the inside pocket that had held it. James caught sight of a highly embossed case before she reached out and dropped the watch in the robber’s outstretched hand.
He held it up. “Now, that’s a lovely thing. You got anything else like this, missus?”
“No,” she said, gaze out over the horses as if she were determined not to allow the thieves the least encouragement. “Everything was sold to pay off debts.”
Perhaps she was just trying to throw them off the scent, but James thought she spoke the truth. Whose debts had she been forced to pay? Her own? A husband’s? Was that where the watch had come from? He couldn’t very well ask under the circumstances.
The robber tsked. “Shame, that. Davy, see if we can lighten the poor lady’s load.”
James swiveled in time to see the other robber approaching the back of the wagon. He was a small man with the short-cropped brown hair, tiny eyes and long nose of a rat. Robbing must not have paid well, for his clothes were worn and dirty, patches barely hanging together in places. As Rina turned, the fellow grabbed for her trunk.
“Leave that alone!” she cried.
James’s grip tightened on her hand, preventing her from moving. From the corners of his eyes, he could see the front robber sight down the barrel of his gun at her.
“Now, you just sit quiet like a proper lady,” he told Rina. “Go on, Davy.”
James nodded to Rina and turned to face front again. She did likewise, but the height of her head betrayed her reluctance. A thunk behind him told James that the other thief had opened the lid of her trunk.
“Dresses,” he called. “Too fancy to bother with, Nash. Couple of hair combs and a bunch of books.”