“Ah, there you are, Miss Caroline,” Reverend Chadwick said with his benign smile, opening the circle to make room for her. Gil, too, smiled at her, but she kept her gaze directed at his father.
“We were just speaking about the Hendersons, and how to ensure mother and son suffer no further harm,” the old preacher said. “Sarah Walker has sent word that they’ll be able to return to their home today. But Henderson will pay his fine and be released from jail then, too.”
It was precisely what Caroline had been dreading to hear. “But what’s to keep Mr. Henderson from going right back to abusing his poor wife and son?”
Prissy looked equally distressed. “My husband can’t legally hold him any longer, Caroline. Not if he’s able to pay the fine, and he can.”
“But we can’t just—”
Reverend Chadwick put out a gentle hand to forestall her. “I know you’re worried about them, Miss Caroline, but I’ve met with the man in his cell early this morning, and he’s promised to stay away from whiskey and pledged to treat his wife and son better. He seemed most genuinely broken and contrite.”
Caroline must have looked as skeptical as she felt, for Prissy jumped in and added, “If I know my husband, after the reverend left, he spent the better part of this morning making Henderson understand if there’s any more abuse, the consequences will be severe.”
And what would the consequences be for Billy Joe and his mother? But perhaps she shouldn’t be so cynical. Surely it was better to believe that with prayer and effort, even a man like Henderson could change.
“I’d like to form a circle of prayer now,” Reverend Chadwick said, “then we—and Sheriff Bishop—could personally escort Mrs. Henderson and her son back to their home. Mr. Henderson will already be home by now,” he said, checking his pocket watch. “We’ll pray with them there, too, then leave them with the understanding that they can call on us anytime.”
Caroline hoped with all her heart that those things would work, but doubt remained.
“Let’s join hands.”
Prissy took one of Caroline’s hands, and before she could reach for anyone else’s hand, Gil took the other. His big hand felt warm and strong and comforting to her. Yet she longed for it to be Jack’s hand she held.
Lord, help them, she prayed, as Chadwick spoke confidently of redemption, forgiveness and Christians supporting one another in trouble. Help me to help Billy Joe and his mother, and Mr. Henderson, too. Please protect Jack and his men, and let me know if it’s Your will that he and I be together.
She had not imagined, when she had taken on the job of schoolteacher, that she would be drawn into the problems caused by an abusive father and husband, just as the preacher and the sheriff were involved in them. Again, she wished Jack was there to lean on. She’d once thought him impulsive and foolish, but about many things, he was very wise.
* * *
The reunion was accomplished. Caroline, the reverend, his son, Prissy and her husband brought a wan-faced Daisy Henderson and Billy Joe to their home, laid hands on the Hendersons and prayed for them. Mr. Henderson, his face swollen and tear-blotched, had stammered his apology to his wife and promised again never to touch liquor or his wife and child in anger. After a final blessing from the preacher, the group left the house.
Once outside, Caroline found herself next to Gil while the others walked ahead of them.
Gil cleared his throat. “Miss Caroline, I want to express my heartfelt admiration of what you did last night, standing up to Henderson. Your devotion to your student and to doing what is right is admirable.”
“Please, Gil, I really don’t deserve—” she began, only to have him gently interrupt.
“You are too modest, Miss Caroline. And I hope you won’t mind if I tell you that in spite of all the unfortunate events last evening, you look fresh as a rose this morning.”
She stopped stock-still in the street, staring up at him, while the others strolled on as if unaware she and Gil were no longer right behind them.
“Please, Mr.—I should say, Reverend Chadwick—”
“Gil,” he told her, a smile playing about his lips.
“Please,” she went on doggedly. “You must not say such things.”
“Forgive me for being impulsive on short acquaintance, Miss Caroline,” he said, his eyes shining down on her. “It’s not normally a failing of mine, as my father can tell you. I—I see by your clothing, and from what my father has told me, that you are still in mourning to some degree.”
“There is nothing to apologize for, Gil. Thank you for the kind things you said,” she told him and hoped she had said enough that he would not press her again. She could not tell Gil her heart had already begun to belong to another, not when she had no real proof Jack felt the same way about her.
Once home, and feeling guilty she had turned so much of the care for the twins over to her mother lately, she spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Amelia and Abby. Her mother seemed somehow younger and more energetic since the girls had come. But Caroline felt the primary responsibility for them lay with her when their father was not there.
“Will my papa come next Sunday?” Amelia asked wistfully, staring out the window at the cloudy afternoon. They had just had a tea party for the girls’ dolls, complete with real tea and cookies and the dolls dressed in their best.
“I imagine so, Punkin,” she said, using Jack’s pet name for them. “And that reminds me, with Thanksgiving out of the way, Christmas is coming. You said you’d like to learn how to knit, so why don’t I teach you both now? You could knit your papa a muffler for a present. I found some blue yarn you could use.”
The same blue as his eyes.
“I’ll knit half,” Abby said excitedly, “and Amelia can knit half, and you can sew them together in the middle, Aunt Caroline.”
She would probably have to help them finish it, if it was to be done on time, she thought later, watching with fond amusement when Abby and Amelia bit their lips in concentration as they wielded their knitting needles with great concentration. But the project distracted Amelia from moping about her father’s absence, so it had to be a good thing.
She began to wonder what she should give Jack for Christmas, too.
* * *
November had turned to December. Jack came to church again the following Sunday and stayed that afternoon and night at the Wallaces. He brought back A Tale of Two Cities and began reading Robinson Crusoe.
He told Caroline there had been no further depredations by the two rustlers. There was much giggling as the twins hinted at their Christmas knitting projects without actually telling their father they were making him a present.
But, although she treasured every moment of Jack’s presence with them, he made no attempt to take his relationship with her any further. On Monday morning she was as confused as ever about how he felt about her.
The rain clouds had finally drifted east, and the sun once again shone over Simpson Creek, so Caroline and Louisa could send their charges out to play at recess time. Billy Joe was back in class, his bruises fading, and when Caroline tutored him, he reported his papa had been “good as gold” lately and had brought home a handful of peppermint sticks for him and a lace handkerchief for his mother from the mercantile. Billy Joe had saved one of the precious candy sticks for her and produced it from his pocket. It was a little the worse for wear for being carried with all his other treasures, but Caroline appreciated the sacrifice nonetheless.
She was less appreciative, when she opened the schoolhouse door for Billy Joe, of the sight of Superintendent Thurgood waiting outside in his buggy for her.
“Go straight home now, Billy Joe,” she murmured, as the superintendent made his way toward her. The boy scampered out of the schoolyard.
“Ah, Miss Wallace, there you are. Your mother said you would still be here, but I didn’t want to intrude upon you
r time with your young scholar. I see you had the Henderson boy with you. Causing trouble in class again, was he?”
“No, sir,” she said, wishing she had accepted Louisa’s offer to tutor Billy Joe this time. But Caroline would not have wanted her assistant to have to face the pompous superintendent alone, either. “Actually, he’s been as good as gold,” she said, borrowing Billy Joe’s phrase. “I’m merely tutoring him in his weaker areas, such as arithmetic, so he can do well at the Christmas recitation. You will be attending it, won’t you?”
The students spent extra time during class devising and practicing their parts. With the extra work that such a program entailed, Caroline found herself busier than ever. But the students were excited about the coming program, and she found their enthusiasm catching. Perhaps Jack would come...
“Of course I will attend,” Thurgood said, a little huffily. “The December Recitation is a cherished tradition. I know my duty as superintendent to be present.”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean—”
“But I haven’t come to discuss the Christmas recitation,” he interrupted her to say. “Miss Wallace, I’ve had a complaint from a parent about you and wanted to speak to you about it. I thought once again we could discuss it over supper—”
Did he really think she would fall for the same ploy as before? “What complaint is that, Superintendent?” she asked, hoping the iciness of her tone made it clear that the only call he had on her time involved her professional responsibilities. “Perhaps it would be better if we discussed it here and now.”
His eyes narrowed. “Very well,” he said, his tone sharper. “Let us sit down and speak of it, then.” Without waiting for permission, he settled himself in her chair, forcing her to sit on one of the closest desks in the front row. She was not about to be left standing like some student who had been called on to recite.
“Mr. Henderson came to see me the other day,” he began.
Caroline sat up a little straighter. “Oh?”
Thurgood nodded, causing his jowls to waggle comically, an effect she was sure he was unaware of. But any temptation she had to smile was erased by the superintendent’s next words. “He’s concerned you’re attempting to undermine his relationship with his son, and encouraging his wife to lose respect for him. He says you’ve aligned the sheriff and the preacher against him, too.”
Caroline felt a spark of temper. Good as gold, Billy Joe had said? William Henderson had been the model husband and father, yet he’d gone to the superintendent to complain about her? If any undermining had been attempted, surely he was the one attempting it with his lies.
Caroline leaned forward on the desk. “And did he tell you about the incident in which he chased his terrified, bruised son into the church social hall, and was so drunk he had to spend the night in a jail cell?”
Thurgood looked thoroughly taken aback. “No, he didn’t. But perhaps this is all a misunderstanding. We must not be too hasty—”
Any misunderstanding was yours, you fool, she wanted to say. “I think you should speak to Reverend Chadwick and Sheriff Bishop, sir. They’ll vouch for what I’m saying.” She stood, smoothing her charcoal-gray skirt. “And if that is all—” She was eager to get home and have some supper before joining the other ladies at the Spinsters’ Club meeting.
“Perhaps I was being too quick in my judgment. I will consult with the good reverend and the sheriff as you suggested and take anything Mr. Henderson says with a grain of salt hereafter. But I need to be fully informed. The incident sounds...interesting. Would you reconsider my offer, and tell me the full story over some of the hotel’s good roast beef?”
He spoke of what happened at the church social hall as if it were merely an entertaining tale! Yet real people had been involved, and real people hurt, people she cared about. And she would not allow him to use the event as an excuse to further his unwanted courtship of her. It was time to make her stand abundantly clear.
She drew herself up to her full height. “Mr. Thurgood, while I appreciate your invitation, I have to tell you that I have no intention of accepting it on this or any other time. I have a duty to you as a teacher, but no obligation to spend any personal time with you.”
Thurgood’s face went purple, then pale as the chalk writing on the blackboard.
“Miss Wallace,” he said, his tone low and threatening as he bowed his head and bent near her. “I would remind you, you serve at my pleasure. Take care, young lady. You can be replaced.”
She took up the pointer from her desk, willing to use it as a weapon if she had to. “I do not intend to offend you, sir. But I have spent extra time working with a pupil, and now I am expected at home. Good evening, Mr. Thurgood.” With that, she sailed out the door without stopping to pick up her things. She didn’t even look back to see if he followed her out the door.
She was going to have to have that meeting with Prissy’s father, the mayor. She’d ask Reverend Chadwick to attend as well. She needed someone in authority to help the superintendent understand the limits of her job description.
By the time she reached home, Caroline had such a headache she could only seek her bed. Excusing herself from supper, she told her mother the headache was a result of being overtired, and asked her to have Dan take a message to Faith Bennett that she could not be present at the meeting tonight.
* * *
Inevitably, her absence caused some concern to her closest friends, Sarah and Prissy, but they couldn’t talk about it in front of the others, so they made sure to walk home together after the meeting.
“What should we do? You know how determined Caroline can be,” Prissy asked after Sarah had expressed her worries about Caroline.
“Milly’s coming into town to do some Christmas baking with me tomorrow morning. Why don’t you come, too, and we can talk about it while we bake?”
Sarah was sure Caroline Wallace was ready for romance again. She just wasn’t sure with whom.
Chapter Eighteen
Milly’s arms were dusted with flour as she rolled out dough to be cut into shapes. “The problem, as I see it,” she began in her usual, forthright manner, “is that we truly don’t know Caroline’s mind on this matter, or Jack’s either, for that matter. Has she really decided to cast aside her mourning and love Jack?”
“I think so,” Prissy said. “From what I can see when they’re together, and from the way she’s starting to wear colors. But does he love her?” Prissy had flour on her nose, and a smudge of cookie frosting on her cheek. “I’m sure she must be afraid to commit herself, in case he takes off with his herd for Montana in the spring as he originally planned. That would break her heart. He’s given her no real clue of how he feels. When he comes to see his daughters and her, they have an enjoyable time, she tells me. She’s been lending her books to him, and they talk of those, and what has gone on since he was last at the Wallaces, but then he never gives her any hint...”
“On the other hand,” said Sarah, who was stirring cookie dough, “Gil Chadwick has made it very clear to anyone with eyes that he is very taken with Caroline. It wouldn’t take much encouragement from her—but she hasn’t given him any. He’s confided in me that he’s willing to merely be Caroline’s friend, unless she changes her mind.”
“How interesting,” Milly said, grinning. “What a nice man Gil is.”
“Perhaps Jack is just waiting for Christmas to reveal his feelings for Caroline,” Milly said thoughtfully. “Perhaps he’ll surprise her with a marriage proposal then. That’s a romantic time to propose.”
“Perhaps,” her sister Sarah said, adding sugar to the mixing bowl. “But he’s never so much as kissed her! Surely he would give her some idea of his deepening feelings in the meantime? I was never in any doubt of how my Nolan felt.”
“Nor I, about Nick,” Milly said.
Prissy shrugged. “Who knows how men think? Differently than we la
dies, I know that much. I was ready to marry my Sam long before he was willing to fully declare himself. He felt he had to earn the right to court me, the dear man,” she said, her eyes dreamy with remembrance. “But perhaps he was right, because we couldn’t be happier now.”
Milly’s lips curved upward in a secret smile. “I know something you ladies don’t know, but I won’t tell you unless you can keep a secret,” she told them.
Immediately Sarah’s hand flew to her heart.
“About Caroline and Jack?” Prissy squeaked.
“Maybe... I’m not sure yet. But you must promise not to breathe a word of it outside this room,” Milly told them. “Just in case I’m wrong.”
Prissy’s hand touched her heart as well. “I promise, on my honor,” she said.
“Well... Jack is rebuilding the ranch house,” Milly said. “Our cowhands saw it first and told us about it, so Nick went and paid Jack a visit on some pretext, and, sure enough, he and his drovers have been constructing a new house there, right where the old one stood. They’re not very far along with it, but...why would they do that if he isn’t at least thinking about staying here, rather than going on to Montana? Nick said Jack asked him not to talk about it in town, and he doesn’t let his drovers do so, either.” She looked from Prissy’s face to Sarah’s.
“Who knows why men do the things they do?” Prissy said. “They seem to like to do things just to keep busy.” She rubbed her cheek, unconsciously spreading the frosting all over that side of her face. “Maybe the bank offered them some money to build a house so they can get more for the property when Jack and his men leave.”
“Then why the secrecy?” Sarah asked.
“Hmm...” Milly murmured. “It gets curiouser and curioser, doesn’t it?”
Sarah said, “I agree with Milly—I think we ought to wait till after Christmas, and see what happens between the two of them.”
The Rancher's Courtship & Lone Wolf's Lady Page 18