by Carolyn Bond
He closed his eyes to hide from the pain in his heart just before he felt a strong bump. He quickly opened his eyes and looked around. The light was fading fast and the twilight made it hard to see more than ten feet around him on the deck. He ran to the starboard side, grabbed the rail and looked forward toward the bow. A darkened craft had pulled alongside the steamboat and he could see men jumping the rails.
He grabbed the first thing he could, a grappling hook on a long pole and swung it toward the men that were quickly moving toward him in the darkness. The hook struck one in the head and Evan heard a thump as the invader hit the wood deck.
An arm shot around his neck from behind and caught him in a headlock. “Just tell us where Evan McEwen is and we’ll be on our way.”
Evan heaved forward and the man flipped over Evan’s back and onto the ground in front of him. Evan took a wide stance looking for others.
The man on the floor groaned.
“You found him. Now tell me what your business is with me!” Evan asked.
In the shadows, a blast of light sparked. A gunshot rang out. Before he could react, white hot fire pierced his right shoulder knocking him backwards. His left hand went to his shoulder as he lost his balance. His shirt was warm and wet. He landed with a thud, his head hitting the edge of a supply box beneath the rail next to the turning paddles. The paddles sprayed his face with cold water. He couldn’t open his eyes and nausea overtook him. The hiss of falling water blocked all sound. Consciousness evaded him, pushing him in a deep hole in his mind. The pain in his shoulder and head receded until he felt nothing at all.
***
Lily stood in front of the class watching the students work. The advanced male students were writing a summary of the bible verses about the walls of Jericho falling. The novice males and all the female students were copying the verse onto their slate.
The girls were coming along learning to write. Despite Brian’s assumption that the girls could not be taught to write, especially the poor girls, they were eager and able to make letters. Of course, Lily knew they would be. Girls now were no different than girls a hundred years from now.
The boys had raised their eyebrows when she’d given the assignment. One boy even raised his hand to protest. He told her that if girls learned to write, what would boys do? She understood his fear. Change is always hard when you can’t see what the outcome will be, but she knew the outcome. Men were still just as needed in a world where women could read and write.
She walked down the rows of desks looking over their progress. She felt confident she was still holding to the curriculum the town council required. The children were still learning about the Bible.
The door in the back of the room opened wide and Brian Everbright stood silhouetted with sunlight. He looked like an angel straight from heaven. He closed the door behind him and walked slowly toward her, looking at the children’s work as he went. His right eyebrow shot up as he passed a girl about ten years old making letters.
Lily sucked in a breath. He looked up at her and pursed his lips. His pace quickened and when he got to her, he held her by the arm and escorted her to the front the room.
“Can you explain to me what you are doing here?” he asked under his breath.
His pale blue eyes made her want to melt into her shoes. The fight for her wits overcame her bodily reaction to being so close to him, “Certainly, Mr. Everbright,” she straightened, “the children are studying the Bible using a variety of academic methods.” She lifted her chin an almost imperceptible degree defying him to challenge her.
“Miss Wallingsford, you know very well it’s not the subject matter that I’m inquiring about. More specifically, and to the point, why are girls wasting school time with writing?”
She pulled her arm free from his hand and stood squarely in front of him. “Sir, copying lines is a proven technique for memorization. You require them to memorize bible verses and my method accomplishes this end. I take exception to your questioning my methods if it accomplishes the learning target.”
He exhaled and looked down before resuming his searching gaze, “You are going beyond what is required.”
“And when has going above and beyond in one’s endeavors been frowned upon?”
“When it causes trouble.”
Her eyes widened as her mind reeled, “Trouble? Sir! My job is to educate. If an educated populace creates trouble, I would ask for whom it’s troubling and have them examine what they gain from having this group remain subordinate. What power are they protecting that is only gained by subjugating through ignorance?”
He ground his teeth and clenched his fists. “Might I remind you,” he struggled to whisper, “you are here as a substitute. You should not flatter yourself to think you will remake our curriculum. You have a lot to lose if you persist.” Having had the last word, he turned and strode out of the room.
She stood next to her desk stunned. She gripped the edge to keep from losing her balance as her eyes drifted across the students’ heads. They were all still busily working on their tasks, except Priscilla. Priscilla watched her with sad eyes. As though she knew this couldn’t continue. Hope seemed to evaporate around her.
Red fury rose in Lily’s chest. She would not be deterred. Priscilla had no way to fight for her right to learn. It was up to Lily to stand up for her. Not realizing it, she had moved to Priscilla’s desk. She knelt down beside her.
“Priscilla, how are doing with your letters? Let me see.” She picked up the slate and examined the scrawled attempts.
Priscilla bowed her head.
“My dear girl, you are doing so well! I want you to keep working and soon you will be as pleased with your progress as I am.” She smiled broadly at the girl. Light danced in Priscilla’s eyes.
“You think so, ma’am?” her timid defeated voice had an upturn at the end showing she wanted to believe her.
“Oh, I am certain. I can tell you have a willingness to learn which, I believe, is the key to success.”
Priscilla beamed before diving back into her work with her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.
Lily stood up and took a deep breath. Brian’s effect on her was unmistakable. A surge of rebelliousness welled up in her. She wanted the girls to learn to write, no doubt, but she also had the urge to do exactly the opposite of what Brian wanted her to. It was a dangerous combination because he did not seem like the kind of Victorian man that would tolerate a wife with her own mind, even if that was the very thing that attracted him to her.
She leaned against the desk again and stared absently out the tall plate glass windows. The bright blue sky seemed to stretch all the way to outer space. A day dream scene began to play out in her mind. She and Brian were married and he had told her not to do something. She had gone behind his back and done it anyway and he was furious. She felt bad for what she had done, but in her heart of hearts, she wanted to do what she’d done. She was not going to be pushed around and lorded over.
That wasn’t quite it, though. She wanted him to lose his mind. She wanted him to unleash his fury on her. She wanted to feel the tidal wave of passion he would let loose. The secure feeling of being owned pulled at the fringes of her emotions. The price was high, but the security of his attention made it seem worthwhile. She longed to belong and who better to belong to than a man who could give her everything?
The clearing of a young man’s throat pulled her out of her fantasy. He was finished and ready to be evaluated. She shoved her thoughts in a closet of her mind and returned to the bright light of day.
***
Evan grimaced as the red-hot pain of the wound reminded him to be still. Dull aching throbbed in his chest. He let out a low groan and tried to feel his torso. Soft fingers held his hand back.
“Lily?” he whispered.
“Sorry, honey. There’s no Lily here.” The feminine voice rang through the air like a melody of chimes.
“Where am I?” he asked while trying to open his eyes
to the painful bright light of day.
“Mound City, Illinois. You were in a river boat accident, but your injury is actually a gunshot wound. You were found floating on a piece of the deck.”
He tried to focus on the ceiling, but the room was turning on a lopsided horizon making him nauseous. “I remember shots ringing out, a blast from a rifle lightin’ up the deck. But,” he struggled to hold the memory, “I dinnae remember anything after that. Just a crack on the back of my head when I fell back.”
His vision settled and he could see a fuzzy outline of a woman in a white coat. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun. Her lacy high black collar stood around her neck over her coat. She examined him with the unaffected observation.
“Yes, you have a contusion at the base of your skull that will be sore for a while. You needed surgery to remove the bullet from your chest. It did pierce your lung, so you may be coughing up some blood for a few days, but all in all, you should be alright.”
“So why was I float’n on a piece of the deck?”
“The Granite State sternwheeler sank when it struck the rocks downriver from Grand Chain. Apparently, it was commandeered by bandits who inadvertently ran it aground when Captain Marr refused to assist them.”
“Good man! Did he survive?”
“Yes, yes he did. He was able to give a full report.”
Evan relaxed but something about the sternwheeler kept eating him. His right arm was in a fabric sling that held his pectoral muscles still. White strips of fabric were wrapped around his chest, but his muscular shoulders and the left side of his torso was exposed. Feeling naked in front of a woman, he glanced at her face to see if she was looking at him. She had begun to take notes in a book and appeared disinterested in his physique. He turned his head annoyed with his current status, stuck in a hospital.
Turing back to her quickly, “Who are ye?” He realized he didn’t know who she was.
“I’m Doctor Emeline Cooke. This is my infirmary. Do you take issue with being treated by a woman?”
“Not at all. I’m still alive so ye must be good at what ye do.”
She chuckled dryly, “You were very lucky you didn’t drown.”
The dizziness took hold again and he winced.
“You need to sleep. That was a good blow to the head. Get some rest and we can talk more tomorrow.”
“On the sternwheeler, the gunmen, they knew my name.” The room started spinning.
If she said anything after that, he didn’t hear. The pounding in his head took all his attention. In a blessed pull from consciousness, he lost himself in the darkness that took over his mind.
***
The boys filed out of the classroom quietly in two lines. The girls had left earlier that afternoon. The last one closed the doors behind him. Lily was pleased with the day’s progress and smiled to herself. She turned and pulled her cloak off the hall tree in the corner. She lifted it around her shoulders and tied the black ribbon around her neck and picked up her lunch bucket.
The door slammed and she jumped. Expecting to see a student that had forgotten something, her brows arched when she saw Brian standing at the back of the classroom with his arms crossed.
“Oh! It’s you.”
“Miss Wallingsford, we need to discuss your teaching methods.”
Setting her lunch bucket back on the shelf, “Certainly. I’m always ready for a discussion on how to improve education.”
“Come and sit down.” He extended his arm indicating the desk beside him.
She walked the length of the room and looked at the small desk and chair. He hadn’t moved, so she realized he was planning to stand. All the body language strategies to exert power were in his favor. She hesitated before sitting in the desk that was too small for her legs.
He moved to stand in front of her still crossing his arms. At first he said nothing and just stared at her with laser blue eyes. “I speak with all the authority of the town council. You knew what was expected of you. You have chosen to disobey our instructions.”
She didn’t like the tone of this. Suddenly it seemed too much like a father chastising a small child. “Excuse me,” she interjected.
His hand shot up with his palm facing her, “You will not interrupt.”
A rush of adrenaline pulsed through her veins until a dull throb washed over her fingertips and toes. The split-second of shock was replaced with anger.
How dare he speak to me with so little respect?
“We will not tolerate insubordination in your position. I’m sure you are aware of the integrity guidelines for a teacher.”
Following him down this rabbit hole of surprises, she felt a creeping fear of what he was going to do next. “What,” she choked on the word, “What are you going to do? Are you firing me?”
A pained smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You’re interrupting again, but I will answer your question since this is the first time. No, silly girl. We need a good teacher. You just need some guidance, and,” he paused, “discipline.”
Her breath caught in her chest. She froze with wide eyes.
“Please stand and hold on to the back of the chair.”
She couldn’t move. The horrifying realization that the man intended to spank her turned her blood to ice.
He spoke again, this time more forcefully, “Get up and put your hands on the back of the chair.”
Victorian age or not, she was not about to let this play out as he intended, “MISTER Everbright! You will not lay a hand or any other object on me without my consent! Is that clear?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, but his eyes shot open as big as saucers as she continued, “If you would like to review my lesson plans or observe my teaching methods, I would be more than happy to oblige you. I am quite accustomed to supervisors with more responsibility than you looking over my shoulder and nit-picking my every word. That’s part of being a professional educator. Now let’s talk about your professionalism. Am I to understand you have an archaic notion that corporal punishment should be used on grown women, let alone children?”
“Go ahead and say your piece, Miss Wallingford. Get it all out.”
“I see you aren’t used to working with a college-educated, professional adult. I will overlook your lack of insight in this area this time, but if you ever,” she took a step forward and pointed her finger at his nose and repeated, “if you EVER, make a mistake like that again, you can find yourself a new teacher for this school!”
She turned and picked up her lunchbox, when he held her by her arm. She looked down at his hand before looking him in the eye. “Miss Wallingsford,” his words were nearly a hiss in his clenched teeth. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Now I am going to explain something to you. It’s crucial you understand. From the moment I first saw you on Main Street I knew I wanted you. We can continue with proper courting, but understand, I get what I want. From what I can see you have little to nothing to offer a man of my stature with regard to wealth. I have taken the liberty of checking out your story and I have found no mother and father in Frankfort.”
She gasped and stared at him.
“I’m not sure what game you are playing with the Blacks, but frankly, I don’t care. All I hope is that you can see the value of having caught my eye and what that can mean for you. Just as important, I hope you can see the destruction I can cause for you if I want to.” He gave her a pitying smirk.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ah. I will have to spell it out for you.” He continued to look down his nose at her. “The spread of the story that you come with no ties to decent society. A petty rumor of indiscretion with me, of how you had the nerve to ask me for money afterward-- It wouldn’t take much and you would be run out of town on a rail. My word in this town carries far more weight than a fly-by-night waif that showed up half-dressed on a creek bank.”
“But why? Why would you do that? What have I done to you?”
>
He chuckled and then took her hands firmly in a mock posture of deference. “My darling, I don’t want to do anything like that. Quite the contrary. I don’t care where you came from. A meddling family of in-laws would complicate my life anyway. What I want is to dress you in the finest silk, have your hair coiffed like a queen, and have you hanging on my arm. I want to bed you for my pleasure every night. You are like a beautiful bird that I can’t take my eyes off.”
“You want to own me like a pet?”
“And is that bad? I want to pamper you. I want to adore you. I want all the world to envy me because you are mine. You would be the envy of every woman.”
Creases made dark lines in the porcelain skin of her forehead.
“Come, come, Lily. What I offer you is an easy choice. You would have the life of a precious bird of paradise. If it would please my wife to teach, then I will allow it. However, remember your place. All of this good fortune comes from my hand.”
She shifted and looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Just the same, I don’t take well to not getting what I want. Therefore, if you disobey my directive for the curriculum, or if you try to derail my plans to marry you, there will be consequences for you,” he paused as a thought gathered in his head, “and the Blacks.”
“You would hurt William and Bettie?”
“Hurt is a strong word. Let’s just say I can make life in Stephensport difficult for them.”
“When Evan finds out about your threats, he won’t let you harm them.” She shook her head in frustration and started to bolt away. He caught her by the wrist.
“Lily, it’s your choice, of course. I wouldn’t count on Mr. McEwen if I were you. I’m sure he is long gone. His type isn’t dependable.”
“You don’t know Evan.” She hissed.
“Time will tell. You do have the zest of a wild filly and that thrills me to no end.” He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his arms.
Locked in his hold, she couldn’t move. His mouth covered hers in a crushing kiss as though he meant to tame a thunderstorm. For a brief moment, the closeness of him made her dizzy. How could someone so controlling, make her want to melt into him. His searching tongue pressed into the inner sanctum of her mouth, demanding her submission. It was so easy to let her thinking brain lose consciousness, to let go and let him take what he wanted. The burning lava in her pelvis heated until an ache grew. Her body betrayed her again. As much as she hated him, she wanted him. She wanted to be his and she hated herself for it.