But something about those deep bluish-purple flowers in her honey-brown hair and the way the shade of that dress brought out the hint of violet in her blue eyes chased all other thoughts from his head. How could a man think of anything else when such a vision of beauty was seated beside him?
Maybe Helen was right, after all. Maybe it was inappropriate for Felicia to be in his house in the evenings, even with his daughter present. And if not inappropriate, dangerous. Tempting. Precarious. Because right now, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and kiss her until they were both left breathless and panting. He’d like to pull the pins from her hair and watch it cascade about her shoulders. He’d like to—
His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard.
“Papa, Suzanne and Phoebe are right behind us.”
The Summerville girls. That meant their grandmother was also right behind them. Terrific. At least the Summerville carriage hadn’t pulled up beside them, with him looking guilty as sin.
He clucked to the horse, urging a faster trot from the big gelding.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Dowd farm. The barn doors were thrown open to the pleasant night air, and abundant lamplight spilled onto the hard, bare earth of the yard. The number of saddle horses, buggies, and wagons in the barnyard told Colin the party was well underway.
He hopped down from the buggy and went around to the opposite side to help Felicia disembark. Charity jumped out on her own and ran to meet the Summerville carriage.
“Miss Kristoffersen.” He offered his elbow to her.
After a slight hesitation, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and the two of them walked toward the barn. Just before they reached it, guitar and fiddle, flute and banjo, drums and tambourine began to play a lively melody. Very soon, couples swirled by the open doorway, the women’s colorful skirts soaring out behind them.
Colin dared to look at Felicia again and was rewarded with an enormous smile.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, loud enough to be heard above the music. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Your first barn dance?”
She nodded.
“Would you like to dance?”
The smile vanished, and she shook her head.
It surprised him how much he wanted to change her mind. “Are you sure?”
Color infused her cheeks. “I don’t know how to dance, Mr. Murphy.”
“Tell you what.” He leaned closer so he didn’t have to raise his voice. “We’ll wait until they play something a bit slower. Then I’ll teach you. Okay?”
For a heartbeat, he feared she would still refuse. But then she nodded, and pleasure flowed through him.
Mrs. Summerville be hanged.
Felicia felt as if she’d already been whirled around the dance floor in the indent of this vast barn, and all because of the way Colin looked at her now.
“Miss Kristoffersen.” Ellen Franklin hurried toward them. “I’m so glad you came. My cousin arrived this morning for a visit. She’s a teacher too. From Oregon. I want you two to meet. I’m sure you have a lot in common. Colin, I’m going to steal Miss Kristoffersen for a while.” She took hold of Felicia’s free arm and gently guided her away from the entrance—and away from Colin.
The band of musicians had taken up their place in the loft in the latter third of the barn. On the ground floor, refreshment tables had been set up in the rear of the building, near another set of open doors. Bales of hay and straw had been placed in front of stalls on the north side of the building, providing places for people to sit. Dozens of lanterns hung from nails, pouring a golden glow over the festivities.
Ellen led Felicia all the way to the tables at the back before stopping in front of her husband and another woman who bore a striking resemblance to Ellen. “Grace, this is Miss Felicia Kristoffersen, our new schoolmarm. Miss Kristoffersen, my cousin, Miss Mary Grace Todd. But everyone calls her Grace.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Todd,” Felicia said.
“Likewise. But please, do call me Grace.”
“And you both must call me Felicia.” She looked first at Ellen, then at Grace. “I take it your school isn’t in session yet.”
“Actually, I’m not teaching at present. I stepped down from my last position to care for my ailing mother. She passed in the spring, but I haven’t had the heart to apply for a new post as yet. So I accepted Ellen’s kind invitation to come for a visit. I hope she won’t regret having me underfoot.”
“Oh, Grace.” Ellen put an arm around her cousin and gave her a squeeze. “How silly you are. You could never be underfoot. You’re family.”
“Even family can get underfoot, Ellen. Especially a spinster schoolteacher without employment.”
How fortunate, Felicia thought, that Grace had family who loved her and were willing to take her in. Felicia had been without anyone to turn to when she was in a similar circumstance.
No one? a voice whispered in her heart.
True. God had been with her. She had turned to Him in her despair, and He had brought her to Frenchman’s Bluff. He had provided her with work and with a home to live in and with new friends and with children to care for and nurture and educate.
She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes found Colin almost at once, standing with some other men. As if he sensed her gaze, he looked in her direction. Her heart hiccupped as she returned her attention to Ellen Franklin.
Grace said, “Ellen tells me her boys are doing well in school.”
“Yes. Very well. All three of them.” This seemed the perfect opportunity to plant a few seeds in Ellen’s mind regarding the possibility of higher education for R. J. But before she could speak, the other woman’s expression changed, her eyes looking over Felicia’s right shoulder. And somehow Felicia knew Colin was approaching. She turned around.
“I believe this is our dance, Miss Kristoffersen.” He bowed slightly at the waist.
“I told you, Mr. Murphy, I don’t know how.”
“Lucky for us, I do.” He held out his arms.
It wasn’t wise. There were a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t dance with him. A week or two ago, she could have listed them all. But just now, she couldn’t recall a single one. She hadn’t thought clearly since the night he almost kissed her. Since the night she would have let him kiss her.
She moved into his embrace as if they’d waltzed together countless times before.
He grasped her right hand with his left, and with his right hand on the small of her back, they began to move around the barn in time to the music. Around them, other couples turned and twirled—she saw them in her peripheral vision—yet it seemed to Felicia that they were alone, just the two of them.
Ba-bum … Ba-bum.
What was it the Bible said? “Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, and are driven of fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm.” That’s how it felt with his hand on her back. It was a light touch, a small thing, and yet that hand steered her wherever Colin willed.
Ba-bum … Ba-bum.
Oh, this wasn’t a good thing. She shouldn’t have come with him to the barn dance. She should have accepted one of the invitations to ride here with other families. Just because Colin was her landlord and lived next door wasn’t reason enough to arrive with him, and it certainly wasn’t reason enough to dance with him.
When had this happened? It was one thing to discover he’d changed his mind about hiring an untried teacher who might marry and leave her position in short order, one thing to discover she was exactly the right teacher for his daughter. It was another matter entirely to find he’d opened his heart to the woman he held in his arms. Her large blue eyes looked up at him, filled with trust and … and something more. What was it he saw in their depths? Had a woman ever looked at him quite like that before?
No. Not even his wife. Was it possible she could have changed her mind about what she wanted? A life beyond being a schoolteacher?
>
The music ended, and the dancers around them came to a halt. Colin was forced to do the same, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from the small of Felicia’s back and releasing his grip on her right hand. He immediately wanted to draw her back into his embrace. He thought again of kissing her. But that wasn’t something he could do here and now, no matter how much he wanted to.
Hoping to force his thoughts elsewhere, he said, “And you didn’t miss a single step.”
Her cheeks reddened. “You made it easy to follow.”
“Would you like to go back to the refreshment table?” He offered his arm.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll step outside for a breath of air.” She fanned herself with her right hand. “It’s rather warm in here.”
Outside. In the dark. Away from watching eyes. “Of course. Whatever you wish. I’ll go with you.”
“No. That’s not necessary. I … I’ll go alone. Look. There’s Kathleen. I’m certain she’d like to dance with you next.” She hurried away from him without a backward glance.
Smart girl.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Hugging the side of the barn, Felicia moved away from the light spilling through the doors. In the time they’d been inside, night had arrived in earnest, bringing with it the blessing of darkness, one the first-quarter moon couldn’t contend with. She stopped and leaned her back against the barn, drawing in several deep breaths to try to quell the uneven beating of her heart.
Help me, Father! I don’t know what to do with these feelings.
“You surprise me, Miss Kristoffersen.”
Felicia’s eyes flew open and she gasped in surprise.
“Have you no shame whatsoever?”
“Mrs. Summerville—”
“Is it your wish to hurt Kathleen by your behavior?” The woman spoke in a hushed but harsh tone. “She thinks of you as her friend.”
Felicia pushed away from the barn, wishing she could see Helen’s face. “I would never knowingly hurt her.”
“And yet you take advantage of Mr. Murphy’s kindnesses again and again. You risk his reputation and yours by blatantly running after him.”
“I have never—”
“Frenchman’s Bluff is a small town, Miss Kristoffersen. Do you think others won’t notice your actions? Do you think they aren’t inside whispering even as we speak?”
Felicia pressed her lips together, thinking it better to say nothing at this point. Inside she was shaking, partly in dread of what the woman might say next, partly in anger over what she’d said already.
“I plan to bring up this matter to the members of the school board next week. We cannot allow a woman such as you to mold the minds of our young people. I intend to ask for your resignation.”
“My resignation? Mrs. Summerville, I—”
“Shameless hussy.” With a whish of skirts, Helen turned and strode away.
Felicia fell back against the wall of the barn a second time, as stunned as if the woman had slapped her.
“Shameless hussy.”
Memories flooded her mind, from the first time she’d met Colin Murphy to minutes before, when she’d waltzed in his arms. Did she care for him more than she should? Yes, she couldn’t deny that she did. But had she acted inappropriately with him or toward him? Had she been indiscreet, shameless? No. No, she didn’t believe she had been.
“Shameless hussy.”
Merciful heavens! Whatever would she do if she were dismissed? She would be even worse off than she’d been when she came here. Who would employ her without a reference?
She closed her eyes a second time. I’ll fight. I’ll fight for my job. I won’t let her take it from me when I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of Oh, God, don’t let her take it from me.
She drew another shaky breath, let it out, then straightened and walked toward the open doors, determined not to let anyone see her fear. She half expected to find the townsfolk gathered in small groups, looking at her as she entered the barn, whispering amongst themselves. Instead, the party continued. No one seemed to notice her appearance in the least. Perhaps Mrs. Summerville had advised them to ignore her when she returned. Perhaps the “shameless hussy” was to be shunned.
The thought had barely formed when Charity appeared at her side.
“Miss K! They’ve got the best cherry pie you ever tasted over there. You gotta have some. Mrs. Franklin made it. You remember how good her apple pie was? This is even better.” The girl grasped Felicia’s hand and led her quickly toward the refreshment tables. “I already had two pieces, but don’t tell Papa.”
It was difficult to remain grim when she was with this vivacious child. Mrs. Summerville’s threats couldn’t hold a candle to Charity’s enthusiasm.
At the far end of the barn, she found Kathleen at one of the tables, filling glasses with punch, while Ellen sliced pieces of chocolate cake and put them on plates.
“Do you need help?” Felicia asked.
If Helen Summerville had issued orders to shun the schoolteacher, the word hadn’t reached Ellen or Kathleen, for they greeted her with friendly, welcoming smiles.
“We’d love some help.” Ellen held up a knife for her to take.
Before Felicia could round the nearest table, Charity said, “But first she needs to try some of your cherry pie, Mrs. Franklin. She needs to try it before it’s all gone.”
Ellen laughed. “Before you eat it all, you mean?”
“I wouldn’t eat it all.”
“Hmm.” Ellen slid a plate toward Felicia. “I saved it for you. Charity said I had to.”
“Thank you.” Under the girl’s watchful eye, Felicia took a bite. It was equally sweet and tart, with a crust that melted in her mouth. “Oh my. Charity’s right. It is even better than the apple pie you made for—” She stopped abruptly, afraid she’d revealed too much. Would Kathleen be upset to know Colin had shared the dessert with her?
“Randall says my pies are why he married me,” Ellen said into the silence.
Is Colin the type of man who could be won by a delicious recipe? Is that how Kathleen won him? Oh, how traitorous were her thoughts! How unwelcome their direction! It couldn’t matter to her what had won Colin’s affections. It mustn’t matter. It didn’t matter.
Kathleen’s response didn’t sound as if she was upset. “I’ve tried countless times to get Ellen to tell me how she makes her piecrusts so light. To no avail, I might add.”
Ellen laughed again. “I have few enough talents. I’d best keep this one to myself.”
The truth struck Felicia like a blow. She would lose so much more than a job if Mrs. Summerville succeeded in having her dismissed. She would also lose these new but already precious friendships.
But I wouldn’t lose Colin because he isn’t mine to lose. I must remember that. Please, God, help me remember that.
Kathleen would always recall the exact moment when Oscar strode toward the back of the barn. His hair was slicked back, freshly washed, and he wore a fancy blue shirt and clean pair of jeans.
“I was hopin’ we might have that dance now, Miz Summerville.”
She didn’t hesitate. She’d wasted enough time hesitating, worrying about what her mother-in-law might think, doing what her mother-in-law wanted her to do. No more. Not tonight. She stepped from behind the table and placed her fingers into the palm of his outstretched hand. He grinned, and she smiled in return.
Oscar wasn’t a large man, but the way he held her as they danced made her feel small and fragile and oh-so feminine.
“You’re the prettiest gal in the place,” he said near her ear.
“It’s kind of you to say so.”
“Not kind. Just speakin’ the truth.”
Enjoying the compliment, she felt her cheeks grow warm.
“I reckon you know what it is I’d like to say, Kathleen.”
The use of her given name drew her gaze to his.
“I’d like to be more than a friend to you. I reckon you know my meanin’.”
/> Her heart hiccupped. She tried to ignore the feeling. “How old are you, Mr. Jacobson?”
He grinned that lopsided grin that she found so adorable. “Old enough to know what I want.”
“How old?”
“I’ll turn twenty-five come December.”
“I’m thirty.”
“Yes’m. I figured as much.”
“I’m the mother of two.”
“Yes’m. Fine girls too. They know their manners. Always polite to their elders. I’ve noticed that about them.”
“Surely you can see—”
“All I can see right now is that I’m dancin’ with the prettiest gal in the place. Like I said before.”
There was no point protesting any further there on the dance floor. She could tell that he wasn’t going to listen to reason. And truly, she would rather enjoy this carefree feeling. She could be sensible later.
They danced three dances in a row, never even pretending to leave the floor before the next melody started. But at the end of the third, a lively square dance, Kathleen found herself gasping for air even as she laughed.
“I’m afraid I must rest, Mr. Jacobson.”
He offered his arm. “How about some fresh air?”
“Please. For a few minutes.” She slipped her fingers into the crook of his arm. “But I should get back soon to the refreshment table so others can have their turn to enjoy the evening.”
He nodded, then guided her toward the barn doors.
The cool evening air felt good on her skin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve danced so much.”
“I’d dance with you every night if I could.” There was no note of teasing in his voice.
“That might be a bit much.” She motioned toward the interior of the barn. “Wherever would we find music like this?”
He stepped closer. His voice lowered. “We wouldn’t need music if we were married.”
Her breath caught in her chest.
“Will you marry me, Kathleen?”
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