by Regina Scott
On the other side of the glass panes, James put his hand on his heart. “Rina. I never took you for a telltale.”
Rina chuckled as she unlatched the window and swung it open. Night had fallen on the Landing, and the moon was rising, touching his hair with silver. “What are you doing?”
“Everyone is so worried about your reputation I didn’t dare come through the front door.” He lifted a cloth bag up onto the sill. “And if I know Catherine she’ll feed you nothing but gruel and calf’s foot jelly. I thought you deserved better.”
Rina took the sack and opened it. Inside lay a thick slice of strawberry pie, the red juice staining the bottom of the sack. “James Wallin, I could kiss you.”
“Yes, please,” he said and puckered his lips.
Rina shook her head with a smile. “It was a joke.”
James threw up his hands. “How could you joke about a subject like that? Do you take nothing seriously?”
“Apparently more than you,” she retorted. She set the bag down carefully, then frowned at him. “But I don’t understand. If I’m to do nothing but rusticate in bed, why do you get to wander free? You faced as much hardship as I did. More, in my opinion.”
James cocked his head. “Because I’m a strapping fellow and you’re a delicate flower?”
Rina slapped his fingers where they rested on the sill. James pulled them back with a theatrical yelp.
“Because my family likes you more than they like me?” he suggested, rubbing his fingers.
“Nonsense,” she said. “I’d say it’s the other way around. Your family has faith in you that they lack in me.”
“You’ll never make me believe that,” he said. Then he glanced toward the house. “I better go before they see me. They seem determined to force you to marry me, and I won’t have it.” He heaved himself up and pressed a kiss to her lips before dropping down and disappearing into the night.
Rina shut the window and latched the shutter over it. There he went again, stealing kisses at the same time he avoided any thought of marriage. Once she would have scolded him for the former and agreed with him on the latter.
She drew in a breath as she turned from the window. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t deny she enjoyed his wit, his kiss. But there was so much more to James Wallin than she’d dreamed when he’d arrived in his fancy suit with his fancier horses at the boardinghouse.
It was time to be honest with herself. She hadn’t left Wallin Landing the first time because she was afraid of Scout’s father or lacked conviction over her ability to teach. She’d left because she was afraid of falling in love with a charmer like James.
She was afraid of his banter, his unswerving belief in himself. She was afraid to rely on him as she had relied on her parents, only to find that there was nothing of substance behind them. She’d run away just like her parents had to escape a commitment. She was through running.
She no longer doubted James. She knew what lay behind his glib facade—strength, determination and an unwillingness to ever fail those he loved. He felt his father’s death keenly, blamed himself for it. But that hadn’t stopped him from seeing life as an opportunity waiting to unfold, an adventure. He’d made her realize that she didn’t have to look backward. She just needed to move forward.
How could she not love him for that? How could she not love him for him?
He didn’t want to marry. She refused to join his family in pressuring him. But perhaps, with proximity and shared goals, they might grow even closer. Perhaps one day he’d go down on his knee and ask her to marry him again.
And then, perhaps, she might find the courage to say yes.
* * *
James walked back from the schoolhouse with a smile on his face. When Rina argued with him like that, giving as good as she got, he knew she was going to be all right. That bleak look had left her face at last. She seemed to have found the confidence that had drawn him to her from the beginning. He had no doubt she would lead the school into the future. He’d done his duty.
I hope you’re proud, Pa. I hope You’re proud, Father.
John was waiting for him on the porch. The downturn of his green eyes, so like their mother’s, told James his brother didn’t appreciate what he had to do now. James wasn’t surprised his family had chosen his second youngest brother to deliver bad news. John’s short, red-gold hair and strong chin made him look serious and concerned. His easygoing nature and studious pursuits made him everyone’s confessor and confidante.
“A shame about your horses,” he said as James stepped up on the porch. “We’ll not see their like again.”
Something settled inside him, like a log burned through in the fire. “No, we won’t.”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “The others are over at Simon’s ready to talk to you about it all.”
James shook his head. “Let’s get it over with.”
Drew was pacing the floor of the cabin when they entered. His older brother was a man to look up to, both in height and in accomplishments. Drew was sturdy; Drew was strong; Drew never wavered in any course of action, except when he had been trying to decide whether to court Catherine. But then, James supposed, love made even men like Drew a little crazy. His brother glanced up at James and inclined his head in greeting.
Simon’s cabin was the perfect place to be interrogated. From the unadorned wood furniture to the bare wood floor, there was little warm about it aside from the stone hearth along one wall. Simon pushed off from it as John closed the door behind him and James, leaving Levi sitting on the floor by the fire.
“We have a problem,” Simon announced. “And I want to know what you intend to do about it, James.”
With a grimace at the confrontation, John went to take a seat on a bench along the opposite wall.
“It isn’t just his problem,” Drew said, voice a deep rumble as he stopped in the middle of the floor. “The wagon is gone, and that affects us all. We need it to bring in the crops.”
“Fetch supplies from town,” John added.
“Escape this place once in a while,” Levi said.
“I know the position I’ve put you in,” James told them. “You can have all my wages from logging to pay for another wagon. It may take a while, but...”
“Not good enough,” Simon said, eyes narrowing and shoulders bunching.
If John was the confessor, Simon was the accuser. Nothing James did ever satisfied him. James raised his chin and met his brother’s gaze. This was his problem. He knew that. And he would fix it.
“Simon.” Drew frowned him into silence before turning to James. “I appreciate your offer, James, and I accept it. In the meantime, however, we need to think about alternatives.”
“I suppose I can use the oxen behind the plow when we don’t need them for hauling logs,” Simon allowed, though grudgingly.
“We might be able to rig some kind of skid,” John mused. “I don’t think it will make it all the way to town, but we could use it to carry things around here.”
“See what you can do,” Drew said. “And as for going to town, it looks like we’ll be relying on neighbors for supplies and the mail or walking.”
Levi stiffened. “That will take most of a day!”
“If you have another idea, I’d be glad to hear it,” Drew said.
Simon shook his head. “So that’s it? James gets off scot-free?”
“What would you prefer, Simon?” James asked. “Stretch me on the rack? Pillory me and throw cabbages? Sad waste of vegetables if you ask me.”
“No one asked you,” Simon retorted.
John grimaced. “He lost his horses, Simon. And he is losing his pay for weeks.”
“Months, probably,” James corrected him. “Seeing as how I count for so little.”
“You said it,” Simon
challenged.
Drew stepped forward. “Enough. What’s done is done. We know what we must do from here. This discussion is over.” He started for the door and held it open. “Levi.”
Their youngest brother uncurled to stand. “Coming.”
John, who generally stayed with Simon, rose as well. “You want company tonight, James?”
Simon frowned at him as if he felt John was choosing sides. James appreciated John’s vote of confidence, but the entire confrontation raised too many memories to feel comfortable sharing them.
“Not particularly,” he told his younger brother. “Save your concerns for Simon. He needs company.” He turned and left before he said something they’d all come to regret.
But his cabin felt colder than Simon’s and not just because he didn’t take the time to kindle a fire before falling onto his pallet. The forest around the house was silent, the house stuffy, his mother’s quilt heavy about his frame. It was as if the very air stood in judgment of him.
Had he accomplished nothing of worth for his family over the years? He’d helped his brothers with the logging, done anything Ma asked of him. He’d built this house, had nearly proved up the claim enough to take permanent possession of his acreage. But anyone might have done all that. It was nothing special, nothing unique, nothing to make up for what he’d cost his family.
First Pa, and now the wagon and horses.
He tried to think of anything he’d done to contribute more than his share, to think beyond his own needs, and all he could find was that he’d brought Rina to teach.
But even there, had he been right? He’d used every tactic at his disposal to convince her to come back with him. In the end, she’d returned because she felt she had no other choice. He’d focused on the school, on making up for his father’s death. He’d told himself he was doing her a favor.
He imagined the couple who had adopted her had thought the same thing. Why not pick up an orphan, a lost child with no other hope for the future? Pretend she was theirs, pretend she was a princess. What a grand upbringing.
They’d ended up hurting her with their tall tales. Was he any better?
And when she came to the same realization, would she ever forgive him for the role he’d played in her life?
Chapter Eighteen
Rina rang the bell just before eight a day later. She had used the intervening time to work with Beth on cleaning and mending her dress and washing her underthings. While she’d seen James at meals, he’d been unaccountably quiet, and she wasn’t sure why. The rest of the family seemed pleased to have her back and the school opening again.
Now Beth hurried across the clearing at the sound of the bell as she had before, pink gingham skirts flapping. Rina wasn’t surprised to see Levi following at a more sedate pace, as if making sure he didn’t reach the schoolhouse one second sooner than necessary. She didn’t wait for him. Instead, she let Beth in, strode to the front of the room and waved to the instructions on the board.
“First one who finishes copying this down wins a helping of your mother’s apple bread,” she told Beth, who promptly bent her golden-haired head over her slate and started writing.
When Levi let himself in a few moments later, Rina pointed at the slate resting on the nearest bench. “You better hurry, Mr. Wallin,” she said, toe tapping under the skirts of her blue dress. “Your sister is already two lines ahead of you.”
Levi slung a leg over the bench and grabbed his slate, fingers flying with the chalk. The two finished at almost the same time, and Rina declared their efforts a tie. Her students were happily consuming their reward when she noticed a movement at the back of the room. Had Mr. Rankin arrived so soon with his threats? Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the door.
Scout stood there, bare feet dirty against the boards, trousers frayed at the ends. His deep brown eyes looked heavy, as if he hadn’t slept in some time. “Can I come, too?”
Rina smiled at him. “We would not have been a school without you, Thomas. Your slate is waiting.”
Smile blossoming, he hurried into the room. Rina watched as he took a seat near Levi, who handed him the last of the apple bread.
“And me?”
She started at the deep voice and turned to find a large man ducking through the door to follow Scout. He had broad shoulders and thick fingers, and his neck was nearly the size of her waist. Whipping the battered hat from his grizzled head and gripping it with both hands as if he feared someone might take it from him, he nodded respectfully at Rina.
“Young Thomas here was telling me that you don’t mind helping folks understand things,” he said, venturing closer. His nearly black eyes shone with a light she had seldom seen. “Never did learn to read or write, but I’d account myself fortunate to be able to sign my name instead of an X.”
This was definitely not the type of student she’d hoped to teach, yet how could she ignore such a need? “You are very welcome,” Rina assured him, gesturing him toward a bench. “Mister...”
“Hennessy, ma’am. Just Hennessy.” He slipped onto one of the benches, which tilted up with his weight. Beth handed him a slate with a smile.
“And would you be having room for us, too?”
Once more Rina turned. Three more men clustered in the doorway. At her nod, they crowded into the school, the red and green of their flannel shirts brightening the room. Each claimed to have been encouraged by Scout to visit the school.
One wanted to learn to add and subtract to make sure his employer was paying him what he was owed. Another sought to understand measurements so he could work at one of the mercantiles. The third yearned to be able to read the Bible he’d been given when he’d been baptized a few weeks ago. Rina assured them all they were welcome and found them seats and slates.
The last through the door was a young woman a few years older than Beth. Though her dress of red gingham looked like that of nearly every other frontier lady Rina had seen in Seattle, her dark hair and dusky skin proclaimed her native heritage.
“The cook at the Occidental said she’d teach me to bake fancy things,” she confessed to Rina, hands folded calmly in front of her white apron, “but I have to know how to read a recipe out of a book and cut the amounts in half or double and triple them. Can you teach me that kind of ciphering?”
Rina might never have cooked a meal in her life, but she knew how to manipulate fractions. “Yes, I can,” she said. “Please, join us.”
They all settled in, and Rina moved among them, explaining, encouraging, leaving one working on a problem while she explained a solution to another. She was bending to check one of her new student’s work when she felt eyes on her.
Glancing up, she saw that James was standing in the doorway. He was dressed for logging, cotton shirt showing red flannel at his wrists and throat, loose trousers topping thick-soled boots. His gaze, however, was almost wistful, as if she’d done something so amazing he could only stand in awe.
She straightened with a smile of welcome, then motioned him in. “Don’t just stand there, Mr. Wallin,” she teased him. “Make yourself useful.”
His brows shot up as if he was surprised by her request, then he snapped a salute and crossed to her side.
“Corporal Wallin reporting for duty, ma’am,” he assured her. “What do you need?”
“At the moment, a second pair of hands.” The abilities of her students varied so widely, there was little she could do with them as a group. But James proved to be a good listener for the readers, correcting their mistakes with a joke that won smiles and making a game out of pronouncing difficult words. She focused on the math studies, explaining rudimentary multiplication and division by using the remains of the apple bread as an example. She was just about to bring the students back together when she felt the floor tremble.
“For a schoolteacher,” Benj
amin Rankin said, boots thudding against the boards as he entered, “you sure don’t learn fast.”
His shoulders were hunched in his dusty coat, hands fisted at his waist. Scout turned white and hunkered behind Levi as if trying to disappear. James rose and positioned himself next to Rina.
“Let me deal with him,” he murmured. “I promised you that when you said you’d return.”
“I can do this,” Rina replied. “Just stay near.”
By the way he widened his stance, she knew he was going nowhere until she was safe.
“I thought I scared you away,” Mr. Rankin said, coming to a stop a few feet from them.
“It turns out I don’t scare as easily as I thought,” she replied, keeping her head up and her breath even.
He leered, the smell of onions wafting over her. “Then I reckon I’ll just have to try harder,” he said, raising his fists higher, “especially seeing as how Mr. Wallin here forgot to bring his gun this time.”
He made it sound as if James drew his courage with his weapon. As if to disprove that, James raised his own fists.
Mr. Hennessy rose as well, putting himself between Rina and Mr. Rankin. “I don’t know your game, Rankin,” he said, “but you got no call to be troubling our teacher.”
“Your teacher?” Around Mr. Hennessy’s arm, Rina could see Mr. Rankin scowling at him. “Since when did you have a child in school?”
“He don’t have a child.” One of the other men stood and came around to Rina’s other side. “And neither do I. But that might change if a lady was to see that I’m a fellow who can read and write and speak proper.”
The other men also rose, nodding. So did Beth and Anna, Rina’s native student. Levi was nearly the last on his feet, exposing Scout, who scurried up as well.
“Education is a good thing, Pa,” he said, voice squeaking. “I don’t rightly see how you can be against it.”
“You,” his father snarled. “Get home. Now.”
Scout started to move, but Rina held up her hand. This was her opportunity, and she wasn’t about to waste it.