Prudence and the Professor

by Sibelle Stone

  Her memory trailed back to the evening Eli told her that he had to leave with his regiment. He’d been proud to be part of something as exciting as war. Prudence had forced herself to hold back the tears and the anger. Her husband marched off to war, talking of adventure and glory. But she’d been forced to live with his family, to deal with his mother, who treated her like an unpaid servant.

  Gerritt fiddled with a glass inkwell sitting on the desk. After a few long moments of silence he squared his broad shoulders and took a deep breath.

  “I can’t keep thinking about the attacks on you, in the bathhouse and the mine. It appears someone wants to frighten you, maybe even seriously injure you.”

  Prudence shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps it’s just a coincidence. A snake seeks warmth and the machine had the wrong plate inserted into its mechanism.”

  He glanced around the room avoiding meeting her gaze. “I feel responsible for your safety. I brought you out here to this wilderness. As your employer I should be able to protect you.” He finally met her gaze. “I made a promise to keep you safe. But I’m concerned my work makes that increasingly difficult.”

  Prudence wanted to run across the room and throw her arms around him. She needed to reassure him he wasn’t responsible for the odd things that had happened to her.

  “I need to watch over you.” He dragged his hand through his hair, making the tussled locks even more disheveled. “I care about you.” He swallowed “Perhaps more than I should. More than is proper.”

  His hands fell to his sides and his gaze dropped to study the floor. “I lust after you, Prudence. Do you understand? I want to be with you in all the ways a man wants to be with a woman. It’s growing like a fever in my blood.” His voice was deep, colored with the emotions he was clearly struggling to control.

  He looked up and took a step toward her. Heat raced through her veins, hot and thick enough to warm her skin. Her breasts scratched against her chemise and a sweet, sultry tingle crept down from her belly to her female parts. Truth be known, she lusted after Gerritt, too.

  She couldn’t formulate an answer to his statement. If he had a plan, she’d need to be patient and wait a few minutes to hear it. Again, she’d learned many lessons as a wife, despite the shortness of her marriage.

  “I put you in danger. My work has made you a target and I can’t bear to think what might happen to you.”

  Prudence frowned. “Your work?” She smoothed the silk fabric of her gown in an attempt to give him time to speak and keep her hands from fluttering nervously in the air in front of her.

  Gerritt took a few long paces across the room to glance out the window. He turned back to her. “I’m working on a project for the Union army, a secret project,” he emphasized. “It could change everything in this war. But it puts you in extreme danger.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  He studied her face for a few long moments.

  “I can’t stand the idea that you could be put in harm’s way. I care about you, Prudence, and I need to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Our lives can change in a heartbeat and no one is ever safe from their fate, that much I’ve learned the hard way,” she said.

  Shock registered on his face at her blunt assessment. “I suppose I am speaking as a man, which gives me a lot of privileges.”

  “You’re a wealthy, white man with status, and power. But ask a widow who doesn’t know whether she’ll be able to feed her children…or an immigrant living in a soddie in the Midwest or a tenement in New York city…” She paused. “Ask a slave in one of the secession states who watches her child being sold on an auction block...ask any of them how predictable and safe life is and you’ll learn a great deal about fate.”

  She took a deep breath. “You talk about safety as if everyone has the luxury of deciding how they shall live and die when, for most of us, it’s a matter of what we can pull together today in order to survive.”

  “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t consider any of that.”

  “I don’t know what you need to do to assure yourself I’ll be safe, but I’m no innocent waltzing at my first ball. I’m a grown woman who managed to survive losing my husband in a terrible war that is tearing our nation apart. I was one of the first women to attend the Lamere Business College, and I won’t even describe the way I was treated by the faculty and other students because I dared to imagine I could be as smart as a man.”

  She took a deep breath. She couldn’t tell him about the horrible things she’d endured after Eli died, the way his mother had berated and beat her. She wouldn’t be able to talk about that without dissolving into tears.

  “I’ve been pushed around, called horrible names, treated badly and made to feel worthless. But coming here was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I was determined to change my life for the better.”

  She crossed the room to stand closer to him, the toes of her worn black boots nearly touching the tips of his shiny, new boots. She poked a finger toward his chest.

  “I applied for the position as your secretary because I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I’ll even be honest enough to say you aren’t the only one struggling with your feelings of desire.”

  She felt warmth on her cheeks, but whether from her temper or embarrassment at her confession, she couldn’t say.

  He gave her a long, sad look as he slid one finger down the side of her face. “I want you, Prudence, more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. But, keeping you here in the house isn’t safe. And more than that, you’re a dangerous distraction. Since I can’t promise to behave like a gentleman and control my urges, I’ve come to a decision.”

  If the blood running through her veins had been hot before, it turned icy now. Prudence didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. She wanted to scream, kick out and throw things around the room. She hated the way men had been making decisions for her since the day she’d been born. When would she be free to make her own decisions, and control her own destiny without waiting for approval or permission from others.

  But, years of training to behave like a lady took hold and she stood with her back rigid, rooted to the spot on the floor like an ancient oak tree with roots dipping deep into the ground.

  “I need to send you away.”

  She swayed for a moment and thought that despite her bravado and boast that she never fainted, she might crumple to the floor. Her temper saved her.

  Gerritt reached out an arm to steady her, but she pushed it away.

  “Coward,” she snapped before spinning away from him and marching through the door. She stomped up the stairs, slammed the door to her room and fell onto the bed.

  Despite all his charming words, the bastard intended to send her back to New York. She wanted to sob out her anger and frustration. But the bile of failure was the hardest pill to swallow.

  All her dreams of independence, of taking care of herself and building something she could be proud of crumbled. She felt an ache in her chest as she realized how limited her options had become. She wouldn’t go back to live with her in-laws. She’d never subject herself to that kind of abuse and degradation again. Her Uncle Edwin had been kind but he had a large family of his own to take care of and she hated the idea of becoming the poor relation, forced to beg for assistance.

  And she had an arrogant, supercilious, and opinionated, man who chose to make decisions for her to thank for this conundrum.

  She pounded her pillow and imagined it was Professor Gerritt Rhinehart’s head.

  Chapter Seven

  Fear Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

  Gerritt blinked as Prudence stormed out of the room. He fought the urge to chase after her, slide his arms around her and kiss away her anger. It wouldn’t do any good. She hated him at this moment and he didn’t blame her.

  He’d give her time to settle down. When she was calmer, she’d understand why moving her down to Mrs. McCauley’s boarding house in town made more sense than having her stay here in
his house.

  He’d told her the truth, well, all of it. Almost.

  He pushed a hand through his hair again. He couldn’t tell her about the secret plans he’d been working on for a sky ship to aid the Union states in their war effort. That was for the best. The less she knew about the Isis, the better.

  He moved a stack of books from his desk chair and plopped down. He’d had no intention of confessing how attracted he was to her. Damned his loose tongue, because telling Prudence he lusted after her wasn’t very romantic. It made him sound like a rutting elk bellowing down by the river during mating season.

  He’d never been the kind of man who could woo a woman. He was always too frank and had few flowery phrases to bestow upon a paramour. Those things had never bothered him before, but since Prudence had arrived, Gerritt was wishing he was more of a romantic and less a pragmatist.

  He leaned his elbows on the surface of the desk and put his head in his hands. He’d never imagined she’d get so angry with him. She’d left before he could explain his reasoning.

  And she’d called him a coward. Now he was beginning to wonder if her assessment might be correct. He was afraid of losing her, of the danger he’d put her in, but he didn’t think Prudence referred to that.

  He really feared the growing attraction he felt for her. Gerritt had built a comfortable life for himself. His mines provided a good income that supported his mechanical designs. Living out in the middle of the wilderness in the West suited him just fine.

  The military needed his skills. Skills they’d helped develop when he was in the Army. And they were willing to accept his terms. But the isolation had also kept him from any intimate relationships. He had friends, but not any close ones. His employees treated him with deference, but he couldn’t say they were more than passing acquaintances. He’d lost his brother in this damned, endless war. Since the death of his parents, Gerritt couldn’t point to one single person he truly cared about.

  Except maybe Alma Faraday. In many ways she’d replaced his mother in his affections and he could honestly say he loved the older woman. And he was a bit terrified of her. It was much like his relationship with his mother.

  But Prudence had slipped into his life with a slow, blossoming of friendship. It started with her letters, sharing her education and experiences and details about her daily life. He’d been lonely and her letters made him feel connected to another human being. Albeit, since it was a long distance relationship, it was safe.

  Then her tintype had arrived and he’d been struck by something about her. To someone else the image might have seemed to portray a plain woman. But Gerritt looked at her eyes and sensed there was great passion and zeal for life hidden beneath the placid expression she donned for the camera.

  Her letters reflected that, and before long he’d offered her employment. He’d waited with little patience through the cold weather. Spring brought the promise of her arrival, and despite many concerns that he’d made a terrible mistake, he’d been thrilled to discover Prudence Worthington was intelligent, skilled and lovelier than he’d ever imagined.

  Now he might have destroyed any chance of keeping her on as his secretary by confessing his improper yearning for her. Sexual desire was something he’d taught himself to subjugate. But since seeing Prudence in the bathhouse that first day, and touching her soft, sensuous body, he’d been addle pated. Every night he fought the urge to slip into her room and make love to her.

  Between the threats on her life and the danger of seduction by her employer, he’d decided moving her to the boarding house in town might be safer. At least she’d be less of a temptation to Gerritt.

  “What the hell did you do to Prudence?” Alma said from the doorway, a tray balanced in front of her. “She stomped up the stairs like her feet were cased in iron and I think one of your fancy pictures fell off the wall when she slammed her door.”

  Gerritt bolted to his feet. “I told her I had to send her away from here because she’s in danger.”

  Alma carried the tray into the room and Gerritt caught the dark, heady scent of coffee. Alma knew Prudence appreciated a good, strong cup of coffee, and he’d become accustomed to sharing a few cups of the brew with her in the afternoon if he was in the office. It was a small thing, but he looked forward to their break.

  “Send her away? The woman just got here.” Alma sniffed, knocking a pile of papers off a table so she could set the tray down. “You been down at the Chinaman’s smoking some of that opium?”

  “Hardly,” snapped Gerritt. “And it’s true, she’s in danger. There have been two attempts on her life since she’s arrived. I think it has something to do with my work, so if I move her down to town, she’ll be safer.”

  Alma poured him a cup of the strong brew, handed it to him and sniffed. “Leave it to a man to think a woman’d be safer out of sight. Who’s gonna protect her down in town? At least up here you can keep an eye on her.”

  Gerritt couldn’t disagree with the logic of her argument. But he couldn’t tell her the other reason he needed to send Prudence away either.

  Alma put her hands on her hips. “Seems to me if you send her down to Jubilee you won’t be so tempted to do some things you probably want to do with that little widow lady.”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Alma.” He sipped the coffee. “You are my housekeeper and ought to mind your own business.”

  “Yup, there’s a hellava lot of things I ought to do, but I ain’t gonna. Put me out to pasture if you like, but I’m too old not to speak my mind when the urge hits.”

  He glared at her. “And I suppose the urge is hitting you like a winter snowstorm whistling down from the north right about now.”

  She grinned at him. “You got it, Professor.” She wiped her hands on her calico apron and stuck her hands in the pockets.

  “I seen them moon eyes you make whenever Prudence comes into the room. You’re stuck on her, but I know you pretty well. Somebody like her starts to get close and you start worryin’ about your own feelin’s.” She shook her head, her expression sad.

  “Boy, you gotta quit bein’ afraid of lettin’ folks in and start learnin’ to love. When it comes to bein’ kind, you got a heart the size of Montana. But I think you’re afraid of losin’ people, like your Ma and Pa, and your brother, so you don’t take a chance on lovin’ anyone else.”

  Gerritt frowned at his housekeeper. “Now you sound like Prudence. She called me a coward.”

  Alma nodded. “She’s right. You’re scared of your own heart and she can see it too. Prudence took a big chance comin’ out here to work for you. She left her family, her friends and her home. That woman’s got guts.”

  “I can’t let her get hurt.” He said, finishing off the hot, dark liquid in his cup.

  Alma raised her gray eyebrows at him and made a clucking noise. “It ain’t just her gettin’ hurt you’re really worried ‘bout, is it?”

  With that the housekeeper turned and sauntered from the room.

  Gerritt stared after her, his emotions tumbling around like rocks sliding down a hillside. Alma was right, he was afraid of what he felt for Prudence. What he could feel if she stayed in his home. In fact, it was her presence that now made his house feel more like a home. A place he looked forward to being instead of simply a place to live.

  After attending his brother’s funeral the house he’d grown up in had seemed more like a mausoleum than a home. He recalled the silent weeping of his mother, so devastated by the loss of her youngest son that she dissolved into a laudanum induced fog. His father spent hours at his factories, trying to forget that the legacy he’d created for Adam was wasted. Gerritt had his own business interests and had no intention of taking over the family textile factories after the war.

  So each of them had grieved in their own personal way but had never reached out to comfort one another. Their Yankee stoicism prevented it. They were descended from Pilgrim stock. Sturdy, strong and enduring what they must without complai
nt.

  Gerritt had been stationed in Washington with the Army when he received a telegram that his father was struck with an attack of apoplexy. Before he could travel from the Capital to Boston, his father was dead.

  His mother dealt with the additional grief with more laudanum, until Gerritt was forced to place her in a sanitarium. The doctors told him she’d given up on life when forced to live without the opiate. Within a few months she, too, was dead.

  Gerritt recalled standing in front of the family vault, realizing that everyone he loved was gone. It had been a devastating moment. He’d spent years devoted to building a wall around his emotions. Now he understood that he’d been afraid to let anyone inside that wall, afraid to love, because losing those he cared about shattered him.

  And he was no position right now to get involved with a woman. His good sense told him that.

  Of course, good sense had a way of becoming senseless when it came to matters of the heart.

  ***

  Lying on her bed, staring at the wall, Prudence tried to muster the argument she would present to Gerritt. She regretted her angry response about his decision to send her away, because it was just what a man expected from adwoman.

  How many times had men at the business school argued that women possessed too much emotion to handle the rigors of the business world? And didn’t her outburst prove how correct they were?

  She stood and paced across the room. She glanced out her window to watch the late afternoon sunset paint the edge of the horizon with red, orange and gold streaks. Even though she’d been in Montana just a few weeks, she’d grown to love the beautiful sunsets each evening. It was one of the things she’d miss when she went back east. Sunsets had never seemed as pretty there.

  Prudence swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears as she considered her options. Perhaps she could prevail upon Gerritt to let her apply for other positions out west before sending her home. She’d heard San Francisco was growing by leaps and bounds because of the gold strike at Sutter’s Mill. If new businesses were springing up, they might be desperate enough for help to consider hiring a woman.