Lionel scrambled out of the desk that was too big for him and scurried for the door to the hall. He was the youngest of the children who had been picked to be on his team. The rest were a rag-tag combination of town and farm children in various states of disrepair. Beribboned town girls sat next to grubby boys who hadn’t washed behind their ears all winter. It was his first practice with the team, his first time seeing what they knew. He had a sudden, new level of respect for what Lily did.
“Right, let’s try something a little harder,” he said, flipping through the pages of the primer Hal had given him to coach from. He paced the front of the classroom they’d been assigned to meet in. A dozen sets of eager eyes followed him. “Samantha.” He turned to a moony-eyed sixth grader. “Spell ‘extraordinary’.”
She blushed pink and beamed as if the sun had come out on a cloudy day as he stopped his pacing at the side of her desk.
“That’s a wonderful word, Mr. Avery. It suits you.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Twelve kinds of awkwardness knocked the wind out of him. He cleared his throat. “Just spell the word.”
Samantha sighed. “Extraordinary. E-X-T-R-O-R-D-I-N-E-R-Y.”
He was going to lose. Worse than that, Lily would gloat and say she told him so. He could imagine her now, straight back, sly grin, dark eyes shining, lips rosy, breasts round and pressing against her bodice.
“Mr. Avery?”
Hands resting on her hips, her long, slender fingers molding around those curves.
“Uh, Mr. Avery?”
On second thought, it might not be such a bad thing to lose if victory looked like that. In fact, defeat was looking better every minute.
“Christian, pull your head down out of the clouds and let your students go!”
Christian blinked and whirled to the door to find Eric Quinlan standing there, taking up most of the frame. He was the picture of a rugged rancher—worn coat, wide-brimmed hat, mud-spattered boots—but for his shiny-clean infant daughter, Darcy, in his arms. The older girls in the room were already cooing and craning their necks to get a better look at the baby. All but Samantha, who now had her elbows rested on her desk, her chin in her hands, gazing up at him.
“Looks like time’s up,” he mumbled, waving a hand over his students, avoiding Samantha altogether. “You all go back to your regular classrooms now.”
The room erupted into a hive of activity, scraping chairs and thumping books as the students from young to old jostled to get out the door fastest. Eric dodged to the side, sheltering Darcy’s head with one large hand.
“What are you doing here?” Christian tucked his primer under his arm like he had during his own school days and crossed the room.
“Amelia’s meeting with Hal, Michael and Charlie, Phin, and the McGees about the quiz questions,” he explained.
Mischief lit Christian up. “You don’t think Amelia would be willing to share some of those questions, do you?”
They shuffled into the hall as the teacher whose classroom Christian had been assigned to for practice reclaimed her space. The woman wasn’t half as sharp or spritely as Lily. In fact, Lily made her look like ragweed.
“Planning to cheat then?” Eric asked when they were in the hall.
“What?” Christian mumbled. He glanced up and down the hall, wondering if Lily might walk by on her way to her own classroom. After the penance he’d just endured in the name of getting closer to her, the least he deserved was a good, long look.
“Cheating?”
He nodded, barely hearing Eric. Lily’s classroom was at the end of the hall, near the stairs that led up to the second floor. The large outside door was in the opposite direction. He turned first one way, then the other. It really would be a shame to come all this way not to make sure she was all right. She’d been out of sorts after church. Looking in on her for five minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone. There wasn’t that much work to do at the courthouse anyhow. Well, work that couldn’t wait, at least.
“Michael was right,” Eric said. “You really have been hit in the head with a brick.”
“What?” He blinked and faced Eric, racing back over their conversation to figure out what they were talking about.
Eric bounced Darcy against his shoulder, grinning like a fool. At him.
“Mabel Twitchel said that you and Lily Singer brought Jimmy home the other night,” Eric said with a casual drawl. “Together.”
“Yes.” Christian frowned at the tone Eric was taking, still staring down the hall. “Because we’d both been out at Sturdy Oak’s place and the weather was bad. I drove her home.”
“Yep,” Eric said. He shifted Darcy from his shoulder to his arms. “Mabel thinks the two of you look good together.”
“We do not ‘look good’ together.”
“Cheryl Kidron thinks so too.”
“Who the hell is Cheryl Kidron and what business does she have thinking I look good with anyone?”
“She lives out there on New Street, next door to Samuel Kuhn,” Eric explained. “She’s one of Amelia and Charlie’s new friends. They were out at our place for tea Saturday. Said she saw the way you rushed to Miss Singer’s rescue when the robbers started shooting up the place on Friday night.”
“I was doing what any responsible citizen would do.”
“Yes, well, most responsible citizens don’t end up as the center of Ladies’ Auxiliary gossip for doing nothing at all.”
Christian crossed his arms and rested his weight on one leg. “Have you gone and lost some necessary equipment down south?” He nodded to Eric’s crotch. “Because you’re sounding like a girl right now.”
“And you’re acting like a fourth-grader,” Eric countered. “Folks are starting to notice.”
“Notice what?” Christian narrowed his eyes.
“That two thieves are on the loose, for one, and that you don’t seem all that concerned.”
“I’m the justice of the peace, not the sheriff,” Christian growled. “It’s Kent’s job to catch them and mine to preside at their trial.”
“Right,” Eric drawled, rocking Darcy. “Not a soul in this town believes that. Everyone knows you’re the real law in Cold Springs.”
It was a glowing compliment, but it sat as wrong as Samantha’s moony smile.
“Christian, you’re as obvious as a bull in a lake,” Eric went on when Christian kept silent. “Half of town suspects you’re sweet on Miss Singer and the other half knows it.”
“It’s none of their business.”
“I know that and you know that, but folks around here are nervous about the timing.” Eric shifted Darcy back to his shoulder and rubbed her back as she began to fuss. “Along with hearing half the Ladies’ Auxiliary chattering about how good you and Miss Singer look together, I’ve also heard several of them saying that Samuel Kuhn has a good idea about bringing the army in. Do you really want the army around here because you can’t pay attention? You drop one ball and someone else will pick it up.”
“No one is going to pick up my balls,” Christian said. His lips twitched. “Except maybe Miss Singer.”
Eric chuckled. He also shook his head. “Fine. I’m not interfering. You never listen to anyone anyhow. Just you remember that I told you so when things move beyond your control.”
He sent Christian one more “just you watch” look, then turned to stride down the hall toward Hal’s office.
Christian told himself his friend was overreacting. He started in the opposite direction from Eric. He told himself that Kent would do his job and catch the thieves and life would go back to normal. He told himself that gossip was just hot air and none of it meant anything. Lily was not a distraction. He had the situation completely under control.
He told himself that all the way up to the door of Lily’s classroom.
The small glass window in the door was decorated with paper snowflakes that must have been fashioned by the students. Christian held his breath and peeked through the rough-cut lines and ga
ps of the snowflakes into the classroom. He could hear Lily’s voice, muffled by the door, discussing some topic with passion.
His shoulders relaxed and the ghost of a smile spread across his lips and into his chest. That woman was passionate about everything she did. No wonder the children loved her so much. No wonder he—
He cleared his throat and reached for the door handle, letting himself into the classroom without knocking.
“…why the Bill of Rights was created to begin—” Lily stopped dead as soon as Christian was in the room. Her eyes flared wide.
The room full of children squirmed in their seats, curiosity rippling through them. One turned to stare back at him, and in an instant a dozen and a half sets of eyes had him pinned to the door.
“Good morning, Miss Singer, class,” he said with all the pretended calm he could muscle into his body.
“Mr. Avery,” Lily answered with composure that he was certain was as fake as his calm. “Can I help you?”
Christian rubbed his chin. He walked slowly down the side of the room, searching for a reason he was there. It was his right to be there. He was on the town council. He was the justice of the peace. He needed to be sure Lily was safe from the likes of Samuel Kuhn. He needed to be close to her.
The chalkboard at the front of the room was filled with neat handwriting, the caption “Bill of Rights” at the top with each of the first ten amendments enumerated below. He grabbed his opening.
“I heard you were teaching about the Constitution, and I came as justice of the peace to answer any questions the children might have,” he fumbled.
Eric was right. He was a damned fool.
“I see,” Lily answered.
Her students squirmed in their seats, some watching her, some watching him. Their expressions said that the lesson had just gotten interesting.
“Thank you, Mr. Avery. You can have a seat up here to be on hand in case of questions.”
She gestured for him to sit in a small wooden chair in the front corner. He nodded, meeting her stony determination with as friendly a smile as he could manage under the circumstances.
When he sat in the chair, a bubble of half-hidden giggles rose from the children. One girl leaned across the aisle to say “He’s in the Trouble Chair” to her friend. Amos Wright, who sat near the front, grinned from ear to ear and shook his head as though Christian should know better.
“And that,” Lily picked up where she left off as though he wasn’t there, “is why the Bill of Rights was created. It is why subsequent amendments to the Constitution have been made. They are to protect our freedoms and to ensure the fair and effective governance of our country. Our Constitution is designed to be adaptable, to change with changing times, to be updated to fit the growing society we live in and the shifting demographics of that society.”
Christian’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected such an advanced topic in a sixth grade class, or for the students to be so engaged.
“Can anyone here tell me what the most recent change to our Constitution was?” Lily asked.
The students blinked and scratched their heads as they thought.
“No one?” she asked the class. She turned to him, her lips curved up and her eyes alight with mischief. “All right then, Mr. Avery, do you know?”
“Yes,” he answered. He cleared his throat. “The most recent change to our Constitution was the addition of the Fifteenth Amendment, which was ratified in 1870.”
“Very good, Mr. Avery,” Lily smiled at him like a wolf about to pounce. “And could you please tell the class what rights and freedoms the Fifteenth Amendment gives us?”
He itched to know what she was up to.
“‘The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.’,” he quoted.
“Precisely.”
She smiled, so bitter, so sweet. Christian’s itching flooded to full-on boiling.
“What that means, class,” she faced her students, “is that no citizen can be denied the right to vote based on his race. It means that when they are grown, Isaac will be able to vote and Amos will be able to vote and Jimmy will be able to vote, no matter what they look like or who their fathers or grandfathers were. It is about equality. Our constitution guarantees equality, regardless of race. That equality extends or should extend into other areas as well. This classroom, for instance. No student should be denied the right to an education based on the color of their skin.”
She turned to grin at him. Yes, there it was, the righteous indignation in those dark eyes of hers that told him she thought she’d scored one on him, that she would never back down. He was suddenly as hot as a furnace.
“Yes, Jesse?” She left him steaming where he was and called on one of her students.
“Miss Singer, can you vote?” the boy asked.
“A very interesting question, Jesse.” Her gloating softened to seriousness. “No, in fact, I cannot. Women are not allowed to vote in federal elections, in the United States. However, women may vote in Montana state elections and for local contests as decided by the town council. But as an Indian I am denied that vote.”
Christian’s frown was a near match to the befuddled looks of the students. It didn’t seem right for Lily to be denied her say.
“Well that don’t seem fair now, does it?” Isaac echoed his thoughts from his seat at the back of the room.
“Women should have the vote everywhere. My mama says so.” Isabella Kuhn declared from her seat in the front row. Her certainty faltered. “She also says Indians shouldn’t vote.” She darted a pink-cheeked glance to Red Sun Boy across the aisle from her. “But I don’t believe that.”
Red Sun Boy smiled and sat straighter. Christian had to rub the bottom half of his face to keep from grinning. Samuel and Alicia Kuhn were in for a big surprise.
“Indians should have the vote too,” Amos added, refocusing his attention. “Mr. Avery just said that the Fifteenth Amendment means no one can be denied the vote based on their race, right?”
“No citizen can be denied the vote based on their race,” Lily corrected him. “Indians are not considered citizens, except on an individual basis. The United States government considers them as belonging to their tribe and not this country. Exceptions are only made for those Indians who perform acts of service for the U.S. Army or the government.”
“But weren’t they in this country before any of us?” Amos asked on.
“Do you belong to a tribe, Miss Singer?” Isabella interrupted before Lily could answer.
Her question was an innocent one, but Lily’s shoulders sagged just enough for Christian to notice. Every one of his protective instincts flared to life and he squirmed in the Trouble Chair.
“No.” Her answer was barely audible.
“Are you a citizen of the United States then?” Amos asked.
Christian waited on her answer with as much anticipation as the class.
“No, I am not,” she answered, eyes lowered now too.
“But if you don’t belong to a tribe and you don’t belong to the United States, then who do you belong to?” Isabella asked.
Lily hid the flash of pain that rose to her face well. Christian was overwhelmed by the urge to run to her and hold her like he had the night of the robbery. It didn’t seem right for her to be standing there alone. Singing Bird, silenced.
When the bell rang in the hallway Christian and Lily and everyone else in the room nearly jumped out of their skin. Christian scowled at the classroom door and cursed whoever was out in the hall ringing the damn thing. His irritation hardly lessened when he considered it was probably a student.
“That’s the recess bell,” Lily announced, her voice wavering on its way back to normal volume. “You may fetch your coats and scarves and go play outside.”
Lily’s students jumped up and ran to the corners of the room to pile into their winter things. Samant
ha sent him a sweet smile, eyelashes batting, before being dragged by a friend to the back of the room. As the children threw their coats and hats on, Christian stood.
Lily found an eraser and set to work clearing the chalkboard. She kept her back firmly to Christian, but now that the students were gone her breath caught in uneasy gasps. He approached her slowly, watching the tenuous expansion and contraction of the part of her torso that was not cinched by her corset. She was upset, he could tell that much without words.
As he opened his mouth to apologize for all the rude questions, she said, “Why are you here?”
Her arm worked furiously up and down across the blackboard. She still didn’t look at him.
He cleared his throat and shifted his weight.
“Well, in the unlikely event that I lose this bet, I need to know where your class is in their studies,” he said. He rubbed his chin, praying she would buy it.
“Do go on,” Lily drawled over her shoulder. She rubbed furiously with the eraser, emotion on vent.
He took a step closer to her, his heart a drum in his chest.
“You know, as justice of the peace I could submit a petition for you to be granted U.S. citizenship.”
Lily finished her erasing, plunked the eraser in its tray, and spun to face him. She planted her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow.
“You could? Just like that?” She didn’t seem pleased.
He swayed closer. “Remember, my father is a judge and my uncle is a congressman. It should be easy.”
“Easy.” She stared at him like he’d suggested she hoe vegetables in her underclothes.
“Well,” he blew out a breath and threw out his arms, “at least you’d have a vote locally.”
“What makes you think I’d want one?” There was fire in her eyes, but for a change it wasn’t entirely anger. Something else burned in the coal-hot darkness of her eyes, something that squeezed his chest beyond bearing.
“You could say you belonged to something then. You’d belong to Cold Springs.”
You’d belong to me. The words popped into his head before he knew what hit him. They stirred up more than they settled. He fought to keep that fact off of his face.
In Your Arms (Montana Romance) Page 8