Shania had often said that her cousin could probably whip up better meals with her eyes closed than most people could poring over cookbooks and laboriously following recipes.
The ironic thing was that it had been her aunt, Shania’s mother, who had taught her how to cook. Wynona’s mother hadn’t had a talent for it, but Shania’s mother could make three-day-old dirt taste good and she passed on all her recipes, shortcuts and secret ingredients to her. She had been glad to do it when Shania had shown that she had absolutely no interest in cooking and certainly no talent for it.
Looking back now, it amazed Wynona how much she had managed to pick up in the short amount of time she had lived with her cousin and her aunt and uncle before the final tragedy struck.
And, just as in Belle’s case, she thought as she put the finishing touches on the mashed potatoes, she and Shania had been just hours away from having their lives dramatically changed forever.
As it turned out, they did have their lives dramatically changed, but for the better, rather than what she and Shania had anticipated was going to happen to them. Their great-aunt had come sweeping in like a hurricane, scooping them up in her wake and bringing both of them to Houston with her. Dr. Naomi Stewart was not the most demonstrative of people, but there was no question in either Wynona’s or Shania’s mind that the woman had loved them.
That was what she was trying to obtain for Ryan, Wynona thought ruefully. She wanted the boy to feel loved, to know that he was loved. Despite what she’d said to Shania about the buttons that Washburn had managed to inadvertently push within her, she didn’t think that the man was being remote because he didn’t like the boy. She had a feeling that there was something else at play here. Maybe the man didn’t know how to relate to his son—or possibly to anyone at all. Not out of spite, but because there was just something that kept him trapped within himself and unable to display any sort of feelings whatsoever.
“Well, if that’s the case, Mr. Washburn, you’ll be happy to know that help is on the way. Well, maybe not happy,” Wynona amended, taking Washburn’s disposition into account, “but it’s on the way anyway.” Finished with the mashed potatoes, she turned her attention to something else.
“Who are you talking to?” Shania asked, drawn by the sound of her cousin’s voice and walking into the kitchen.
Startled, Wynona managed to recover quickly. “No one, just seeing how something sounds out loud. I’m working up a lesson plan,” she said.
Shania crossed her arms before her chest and gave her cousin a penetrating, knowing look. “Why, Wynona Chee, I’ve never known you to lie before.”
Wynona got her back up. “I’m not ly—okay, so maybe I was just talking to myself,” she amended, backtracking.
Shania continued looking at her, waiting for more. “About?”
“Don’t you have any lesson plans to work on?” Wynona asked her cousin, wanting to change the subject or at least put this one to rest. “Something else you should be doing instead of eavesdropping on me?”
Shania just continued standing there, smiling as she watched her cousin move about the cozy kitchen. “Nope. Even if I did have a lesson plan to work on, which I don’t by the way, this is a lot more interesting.” She tilted her head, giving no indication that she was about to leave the room or Wynona. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Wynona?” she asked.
Wynona just went on working. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”
Shania didn’t give up. She and Wynona were in tune to one another the way other cousins weren’t. She had a feeling there was something more going on. Wynona had seemed too upset when she’d come home.
She tried another tack. “How about something to get off your conscience?”
“No, again.” Wynona stopped moving around the kitchen and fixed a look at her cousin. “Look, Ryan’s father just got to me and I’m trying to work that out. I’ll be fine by the time we finish eating this meal,” she said, nodding at the dinner she was busy preparing for the table.
Shania smiled. She knew when to prod and when to back off and stop pushing. This was one of the latter times. She smiled at Wynona. “You know, you just might have stumbled onto a new way to handle problems—cooking your way into working things through.”
“Very funny,” Wynona commented drily. And then she suggested, “Why don’t you make yourself useful and set the table?”
Shania was more than willing to comply. “Well, if that’s all it takes to be useful to you, you’ve got it. I’ll go set the table.”
“Shania,” Wynona called after her.
The other woman stopped and turned away from the kitchen cabinet, holding two plates in her hands. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
Shania knew her cousin wasn’t referring to her setting the table. She smiled, nodded. “Don’t mention it. My pleasure, Wyn. My pleasure.”
Wynona laughed as she got back to preparing the chicken. “You certainly have a low threshold of pleasure, Shania.”
“Well,” Shania replied philosophically, “if you keep your expectations low, almost anything at all will turn out to be a nice surprise, guaranteed to make you happier than you’d thought you would be.”
Wynona laughed, “Good philosophy, cousin.”
“I always thought so,” Shania said cheerfully. “Now, hurry up,” she urged, taking out the silverware. “I’m hungry.”
Chapter Five
Wynona didn’t know exactly what to expect when she arrived at school the next day.
As had become her habit, she had come in early. Trying to take her mind off Ryan and all the different possible scenarios that might have taken place after she had left the Washburn ranch, she moved around the classroom, tidying things up and preparing for that day’s lesson.
Despite moving at less than her regular pace, she still found herself with a lot of time on her hands and nothing to do. When her students finally began coming in, she held her breath, watching the doorway.
But unlike other mornings, her attention wasn’t focused on the children in her class. It was focused exclusively on Ryan, waiting for him to come in. There was a part of her, she had to admit, that was afraid that her visit to his ranch in order to have things out with his father had ultimately only made things worse for the introverted boy.
If that was the case, she would never forgive herself—after she went back to the man’s ranch and boxed the man’s ears.
But when the boy came in with the rest of his class and she saw the look on his face, she knew that at least for now, no return visit or boxing of ears was called for. Ryan was smiling, looking a great deal happier than she had ever seen him.
Rather than keeping his head down, Ryan actually made eye contact with her. And when he did, when he caught her looking at him, he smiled wider. It was as if the sun had suddenly come out, casting light on everything in the immediate vicinity right after a prolonged, heavy rain.
Wynona raised her eyebrows in a silent question and the boy’s smile grew wider still. Breaking rank before he reached his desk, he came up to her and whispered, “I got to help my dad with the horses,” and then just as abruptly he went to take his seat.
She hugged what he had just told her, dying to ask Ryan to elaborate. But she didn’t want to embarrass the boy in front of the class by singling him out so she held off until recess.
* * *
It was possibly the longest two and a half hours she’d ever gone through.
Once her class began to file out into the school yard, she waited to see what Ryan would do. As she’d hoped, he hung back for a minute and then shyly, slowly, he made his way over to her. He moved like a newborn colt trying out his legs and learning how to stand for the first time.
Wynona waited patiently. “Is there something you’d like to talk to me about?” she asked, coaxing the words out of Ryan.
&n
bsp; The boy’s head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. Every part of him seemed so much more animated than it had been up until today.
“Uh-huh! My dad asked me to help with the horses!” he told her again.
Wynona’s smile matched Ryan’s. “Tell me everything,” she encouraged. “What did you do?”
“I got to hold on to their bridles. Not all at once,” he said quickly, not wanting her to misunderstand. “I held on to the bridles one at a time.”
As she felt everything inside her lighting up, Wynona nodded her approval.
“Very smart,” she told him. “If you’re holding on to more than one bridle at a time and the horses decide to go in two different directions, you have a problem,” she said solemnly.
“Mostly I helped Uncle Roy,” Ryan went on. “But at the end of the day, when we all went into the house, my dad said I did okay.” He beamed as if his father had just paid him the highest compliment possible. His bright blue eyes were dancing.
It wasn’t exactly an avalanche of praise, Wynona thought, but it definitely was a start. Most important, Ryan was happy about how things had gone.
She was careful to sound totally positive about his experience. “That really sounds wonderful,” she told the boy. “I’m sure you were a great help. How do you feel about it?”
“Wonderful!” Ryan declared. And then, although he had always been shy and withdrawn around her, Ryan threw his arms around her waist and hugged her, nonverbally expressing all the gratitude and joy he was feeling right at this moment.
After several minutes, he stepped back. “Okay if I go outside?”
“Absolutely,” she told him with enthusiasm.
“See you later.” Ryan waved as he dashed out into the school yard.
It’s a start, Wynona thought. Moving to the side, she watched through the window as Ryan made his way outside where the younger students gathered to play. To her surprise, she saw Ryan approach one of the more quiet students. She obviously couldn’t hear the few words that were exchanged, but she got the general gist as she watched the two boys begin to play together.
Definitely a start, Wynona thought as her heart swelled. She couldn’t have felt happier than if someone had just told her she was in the running for the Nobel Prize.
* * *
Because she wanted Clint Washburn to know the positive effect his action had had on his son—after all, she had let him have it with both barrels when it had involved the negative effect he’d had on the boy—Wynona called Clint Washburn the first chance she got.
After five rings, the answering machine picked up.
She stifled a sigh and almost hung up the phone. But she forced herself to stay on until she heard the tone prompting her to leave a message.
“Mr. Washburn, this is Wynona Chee. Ryan’s teacher,” she added, then bit her lower lip because at this point the man damn well knew who she was. Washburn might be a lot of things but he wasn’t an idiot. “I just wanted you to know that Ryan was like a changed boy today. He said you let him help with the horses. I can’t begin to tell you how incredibly happy he was.”
Every word sounded stilted to her ear. She couldn’t seem to convey the really positive note she was attempting to express. She wasn’t trying to pat herself on the back, and somehow, congratulating a father for acting like a decent father didn’t seem right, either, but there was no way to state what was going on at school today without making it sound awkward.
Aware that she’d allowed several seconds of dead time to go by, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know. Bye,” she said belatedly.
Hanging up, she realized that she had wound up repeating herself in the short message she had left on Washburn’s answering machine.
With a sigh, Wynona returned the receiver to the cradle.
She had gotten her message across and that was all that counted. Maybe if Washburn was made aware of how far a little bit of kindness could go, he’d be more prone to act kindly toward the boy.
At any rate, she had done what she had set out to do. She’d let him know that his son had been a great deal happier today than she’d ever seen him and that was all she was trying to convey to the man.
Wynona forced herself to put the matter out of her mind. Though she was happy about Ryan, he wasn’t her only student. She had a classroom of kids to inspire and motivate and she needed to concentrate on them right now.
To her, that was the only way to learn—to turn everything into a stimulating, challenging game whether she was teaching the students math, or reading, or any of the other subjects that she touched on in her daily attempt to turn her students into eager little sponges soaking up the knowledge she was imparting.
* * *
At the end of the day, after all her students had cleared out of the classroom and gone to their homes, the euphoria Wynona had felt because of the way that Ryan had behaved was still there. She was still feeling pleased with herself.
She couldn’t get over how Ryan’s demeanor had been so light, so different than anything she had previously witnessed from him. Wynona felt as if she could probably live off the fumes of that happiness for an entire month, if not more.
Sitting at her desk, she had just finished grading the surprise quiz that she had given today. It was a history quiz and as she reviewed the grades, she was pleased to see that most of the class had done very well.
She was even more pleased to see that Ryan had done far better than he normally did.
Though she knew all about the benefits of positive reinforcement, it still amazed her that a little bit of positive interaction with his father could have this much of an effect on the boy. It was as if he’d been trapped inside this dark box and all he had needed was this one simple act of thoughtfulness from his father to make him come out.
Wynona stared at the quiz she had just finished grading. Common sense would have dictated that she just hand the quiz back to Ryan tomorrow when she gave the rest of the students back their quizzes.
But right now she felt this strong urge to show Washburn what a little bit of kindness and attention on his part had managed to accomplish in his son’s case. Most of all, she secretly hoped that this would encourage the man to continue treating his son this way.
She pressed her lips together as she went on looking at the quiz.
“Let it go, Wynona. Nobody’s paying you to be this man’s conscience,” she murmured under her breath. “Most likely, he’ll probably resent you for it. You know what bullheaded men are like.”
She wavered over the matter, her good intentions warring with her common sense.
In the end, her common sense never had a chance. Her desire to make sure that Washburn’s actions had not been just a onetime thing, or a fluke that the rancher had committed in a moment of what the man would probably think of as weakness, had Wynona making up her mind on what course of action to take.
For the second time in two days, she drove to the Washburn ranch.
This time, when she arrived, Wynona didn’t stop at the ranch house first. On a hunch, she drove her small, fifteen-year-old car toward where she had seen the corral yesterday.
Not wanting to risk spooking the horses just in case Washburn and his hands were working with the animals in the corral, she parked her vehicle about a quarter of a mile away from it.
As she made her way toward the corral, Wynona could immediately make out Washburn. The two other men she had seen working alongside the rancher were with him, as well.
The person she didn’t see in the area was the one person she was actually looking for. Ryan was nowhere around.
Her heart dropped.
The next moment Wynona forced herself to rally. She’d been right in coming out, she told herself. This man not only had to be led to water, he also had to be tethered next to the stream and forcibly have his muzzle held right in the
water.
As with the first time, Washburn wasn’t the first to see her. He was too busy working with one of the horses. It was his brother, Roy, who saw her first.
Roy stopped what he was doing to admire the figure Ryan’s teacher cut as she strode toward the corral and them.
“What did you do wrong this time, Clint?” he asked his brother.
Clint didn’t even bother looking up. If he stopped every time one of the other two men felt like talking, he’d told them that he would never be able to get anything done.
So instead, he growled, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Not waiting for an answer, Roy just continued talking. He’d already made an assumption. “Whatever it was, it brought that spitfire of a teacher back, big brother,” Roy told him.
Clint didn’t have to look at his brother to know that he was grinning ear to ear. He could hear it in Roy’s voice.
With a sigh, he looked over in the direction of the ranch house. That was when he saw her. Ryan’s teacher, heading straight for them.
For him.
Just like yesterday. It was almost like déjà vu, except that the woman was wearing different clothes than she had yesterday.
He noticed the way she moved in them.
He noticed everything about her.
Muttering under his breath, Clint took off his gloves and dropped them as he headed toward the woman. Now what? he wondered, annoyed.
“Need backup?” Jake asked, calling after Clint as the latter strode toward the teacher.
“No,” Clint bit off. “You just keep on working,” he ordered the ranch hand.
Never taking his eyes off the woman—it both impressed and annoyed him that she met his glare head-on—he cut the distance between them until they were finally facing each other.
“Something else on your mind, Ms. Chee?” he asked.
The Cowboy's Lesson in Love Page 5