by Anna Schmidt
“You’re going to pay Ellie and me to show up here every day?” Eli’s mouth was stuffed with food.
“Please finish chewing, and swallow before you comment, Eli. And the answer to your question is yes—in a manner of speaking.”
“But Father is paying you,” Ellie noted. “Are you going to give us his money? Because he will not like that at all.”
“Your wages will not come in monetary rewards, Ellie.”
“Then what?”
Amanda could not allow them to realize that she was making this up one step at a time. “We will use a system of rewards and penalties.”
Eli slumped back in his chair, disappointment evident in every bone of his body. “So we’re back to the way things started that first day.”
“Not exactly.” Oh, why had she not thought this out more thoroughly?
“Eli is very good with numbers and even percentages,” Ellie said. “Father has a bookkeeper at the bank to keep an account of things. Eli could keep an account of what we are assigned, and what we complete, and…”
“Let her finish, Ellie,” Eli said, his eyes on Amanda. It was as if he realized she hadn’t thought this through, and once again, Amanda felt as if Eli were the one in control. So she decided to use that.
“How would you suggest we do this, Eli? I mean, assuming we can agree that you and your sister will approach your studies as a job, as daily work that must be accomplished to some end. How would you make that more palatable?”
His lips turned slightly up and into a hint of a smile as he sat back and folded his arms. He glanced at the list of homework assignments she’d posted the day before and then back at her. “How about if Ellie and me finish the homework and whatever lessons you set for us each day before the end of the day, we get to leave—go our own way?”
“First of all, it would be Ellie and I, not Ellie and me—and you present an interesting idea.”
He blinked. Clearly, he had expected her to laugh at the suggestion and label it preposterous. “So you’ll do it?”
She could not help but glance at Ellie’s bruised arm, a glance that had the girl tugging at her dress sleeve to cover the injury. “I do not think your father would agree to such a plan. However, we might agree that if you complete your homework assignments and class work with marks of at least ninety percent accuracy, then we could use any time we have remaining to leave the house and explore other places.”
She saw Eli’s eyes light up and suspected he was thinking that once they were away from the house, he could go off on his own. “Of course,” she added, “there would need to be penalties for abusing the privilege of such field trips.”
“We could go hiking,” Ellie volunteered. “We could ask Father to give us a tour of the bank. We could…”
“He’ll never agree to the idea of us being anyplace but right here, so why talk about it?” Eli grumbled.
“You leave that to me, Eli,” Amanda said. “What I need from you and Ellie is your very best effort so that I can present the idea to your father with evidence that you are both engaged in your studies and wish to excel.”
By the time she walked back to the boardinghouse later that afternoon, Amanda felt completely drained—but elated beyond anything she might have imagined possible.
Seth did not appear at supper, and when Ollie asked about his absence, Miss Dooley replied that he had not yet returned from the excursion he’d set out on earlier that morning. “He indicated that he would return in time for breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“What is it that Mr. Grover does?” Miss Jensen asked.
Miss Dooley paused mid-bite and focused her attention on the milliner. She finished chewing her food and then tapped each corner of her mouth with her napkin. “We do not discuss other boarders in their absence. If you wish to know details of Mr. Grover’s life, then you should ask him.”
“He plays cards—I can tell you that,” Ollie Taylor said, ignoring Miss Dooley. “Pretty good at it, too. He’s made a goodly sum of money in the time he’s been coming into the Blue Parrot.” He reached for the meat and potatoes and helped himself to a second serving of each. “There’s some that think he has to be cheating, but nobody’s been able to catch him at it. On the other hand, he called out a man the other night for just that and proved to be right.”
Amanda noticed the other women at the table, including their landlady, hung on Ollie’s every word. She, on the other hand, realized she did not want Seth to be someone of questionable character—or career. She preferred to think of him as someone who had helped her find ways to approach her teaching, someone she might confide in. The truth was that she was far lonelier than she had thought she might be. She missed the ranch and her family and the cowboys who worked there and their housekeeper Juanita. She missed having anyone she might talk to about her day and how she might make tomorrow a little better.
Of course, Seth had been kind, but here was irrefutable evidence that he was indeed a gambler. Her mother would haul Amanda back to the ranch before she could blink if she showed the slightest interest in such a man. The fact that her mother had met him back in Whitman Falls and already formed the opinion that he was a man of questionable character only added to Amanda’s certainty. If she wanted to stay in Tucson, she needed to keep her distance from Seth Grover.
And yet, later that night, after the front door had been locked and everyone else had gone to bed, Amanda sat at the writing table in her room, reading the essays, when she heard the clop of a lone horse passing below. She looked out and saw a dark-clothed figure riding a gray horse and recognized the horse—a distinctive dappled gray—as one she had seen Seth riding back in Whitman Falls. Both rider and horse moved with the exhaustion of having traveled some distance, piquing Amanda’s curiosity—and her natural instinct to offer comfort. How many times back on the ranch had she seen her father come home after a long day on the range, and more recently, her younger brother Trey?
She watched until horse and rider had rounded the corner that led to the livery and recalled what Seth had promised Miss Dooley about staying in the livery should he not make it back to the boardinghouse before curfew. Well, the man had to eat, didn’t he? And given the heat of the day had turned to a chilly night, would he not need a blanket?
Besides, Eli’s large scrawl had revealed a desire to play baseball, and after seeing the glove and ball the boy clearly prized, Amanda thought perhaps she should take that to heart. Might someone—someone like Seth—offer suggestions for how best to use Eli’s passion for the game to encourage him?
Moments later she had gathered a spare blanket and tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she managed to find three stale biscuits left over from breakfast and destined to be crumbled up and fed to the chickens Miss Dooley kept at the back of the house. She took two and slipped out the back door, careful to leave it unlocked for her return. She stopped at a community pump near the fire bell tower Miss Dooley’s father had built for the town and filled a tin cup she’d taken from a hook in the kitchen before hurrying through the dark night to the livery.
“Mr. Grover,” she whispered when she got close enough to see that he had settled his horse and was raking fresh hay. He started, and an instant later, Amanda found herself facing the barrel of his six-shooter.
She dropped the cup of water. “It’s me—Amanda. Miss Porterfield,” she added. “The teacher.”
He slowly lowered the gun. “You could get yourself killed, lady, sneaking up on a guy like that.” He glanced outside as if looking to see who had come with her. “What do you want? Has something happened back at Miss Dooley’s place?”
His voice was low and gruff—and dangerous. His clothes were covered in dust, and he had not shaved in at least a couple of days, which only added to his rough appearance.
Amanda began to regret her impulsiveness. After all, what did she really know of this man? An
d now, here she was alone with him. If she cried out, who would hear?
She was aware of loud voices and music coming from down the street at the Blue Parrot and the other two saloons. Other than that, all she heard was the snort of Seth’s horse and her own rapid breathing. “I heard you pass, and I remembered what you promised about sleeping here with your horse if you were late again, and I thought…”
“You’re shaking,” he said as he holstered the gun and took the blanket from her. He opened it and placed it around her shoulders. “Come inside before somebody sees you.” He led the way to an empty stall where she saw he’d already set up his bedroll and a small lantern. She felt foolish and was glad her mother would never know of this midnight escapade.
“I should go,” she murmured, and turned back toward the door just as they heard a burst of angry voices coming from down the street. Amanda hesitated, pulling the blanket securely around her shoulders, not so much for warmth as for protection.
Seth went to the open door of the livery and checked the street. “Best just sit here until they’ve gone home,” he said, indicating a hay bale inside the empty stall.
Once she had followed his advice, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He finally settled on brushing his horse, although it was pretty obvious to Amanda that he had already taken care of that, along with providing the animal with fresh hay, oats, and water. Still, she was glad to have the horse between them.
“Where is it that you go so late at night?” she asked when the silence became uncomfortable.
“Here and there,” he replied, pausing as if needing to consider his answer.
“That was the same answer you offered the other night. Is that your polite way of saying it is none of my business?” Amanda smiled, hoping he could see her well enough in the dim light to know she realized she had no business inquiring about his comings and goings.
“Yes, ma’am. It is.”
With nothing else to do, Amanda let the blanket fall from her shoulders as she picked up the tin cup she’d dropped. “I passed a pump. I’ll just go…”
“I have water,” he said, and pointed to a canteen hanging on a nail. “You should leave that, though. I’ll wash it out and make sure it’s back in the kitchen before breakfast.” He smiled. “I’m pretty sure Miss Dooley has every single cup and spoon counted.”
Amanda felt herself relaxing. He was more like the man she’d been with that night in the sitting room.
“How will you get back inside the house?” he asked after a moment.
“I left the back door unlocked.”
“Clever girl,” he replied with a slight chuckle.
Amanda bristled at his calling her a girl. Was that how he saw her? It was most definitely how her family and friends back in Whitman Falls viewed her.
“I overheard Miss Jensen and Mrs. Rosewood talking the other day. Mrs. Rosewood thinks you are quite dangerous—she suspects you are on the run from something, and having noticed Miss Jensen’s not-so-subtle attempts to garner your attentions, she felt compelled to warn her.”
“The widow thinks I’m an outlaw?”
“Yes, and she’s not alone. I’m pretty sure that Eliza McNew—the storekeeper who gave you the jerky back in Whitman Falls—does as well.” She could have included her mother in the list but decided against it.
“And what do you think?”
“I think you are a man with a secret. I think you are involved in something you do not wish others to see. If I put those pieces together, I would have to agree that while there is no real proof, whatever your business, it is most likely not something within the confines of the law. And yet, the fact that Miss Dooley has agreed to take you in would belie that theory.”
He let out a long low whistle. “Now you’re talking like a professor.”
“I am a teacher,” she reminded him.
He set the curry brush on a shelf and came into the stall with her, perching on his saddle that rested against the wall. “How’s that going?”
She knew what he was doing—deliberately switching the focus of the conversation. She could choose to bring the topic back to him and his mysterious midnight forays, or she could allow the matter to drop. She could talk about her teaching and let the man think he was in control. Over time she’d learned that the males of the species tended to relax when they thought that was the case.
“These first weeks have been challenging to say the least, not to mention exhausting,” she said as she stood and brushed straw from her dress before folding the blanket. “And since it would appear that my interest in your profession is not quite as welcomed, I won’t trouble you further.” She walked to the door and turned back. “You should remember that my brother is currently running for the office of district sheriff, and once he is elected, I cannot speak for his interest in your affairs. Good night, Mr. Grover.”
He was on his feet in an instant, following her to the door of the livery. “Amanda, let me walk with you.”
“No, thank you. I made it here without incident, and I can certainly make it back as well.” She glanced up and down the street and then started toward the boardinghouse. After a few steps, she turned to remind him to return the cup, but he was gone.
“So much for your concern for my safety,” she grumbled.
Five
As soon as Amanda left the livery and started back to the boardinghouse, Seth darted to the other side of the street, where he stayed in the shadows provided by the closed shops. His intention was to follow her without her knowledge. The woman seemed to have no idea of the risk she had taken coming to this part of town at this hour. She was clearly determined to find trouble before it could find her, this strawberry blond with the quick mind and dangerous curiosity. A woman like that saw adventure, not jeopardy. No doubt she was an excellent teacher, one who could instill in her students the same inquisitiveness and enthusiasm for learning she seemed to possess. The problem for him would be to prohibit her passion for gathering information to dwell on him—or his business.
Once he had watched her tiptoe onto the back porch of Miss Dooley’s place and slip inside, he returned to the livery, where he placed his pistol next to his bedroll, extinguished the lamp, and hoped for at least a couple of hours of sleep. He lay on his back, his hands folded behind his head, as he stared at the blackness of the hayloft above him. But he did not see darkness. He saw Miss Amanda Porterfield, with her wide emerald eyes and ready smile. He saw a woman in the fullness of her beauty, her skin tanned to a soft gold in spite of the bonnets she wore to protect herself from the harsh sun. He picked up the blanket she’d left and sniffed it, savoring the faint fragrance of her cologne—something that smelled like a field of wildflowers or fresh air or both.
When he fantasized about what she might look like as she undressed and prepared for bed, her hair loose and flowing over her shoulders, he groaned, swore, and silently vowed for the hundredth time to avoid further contact with the teacher. He would move to the hotel. He would camp outside of town. He would…
But when he approached Miss Dooley the following day about the possibility of moving to new quarters, she reminded him that his payment had been in full and—by his own terms—nonrefundable. However, if he preferred the hotel at twice the price with no meals included, that was his business. On the other hand, given that his work seemed to take him away at night, she might be persuaded to offer him the same arrangement she had with the bartender—a key of his own to come and go as necessary.
“In exchange for…?” Seth asked, admiring the older woman’s shrewdness when it came to business.
“Another month’s rent and board in advance—also nonrefundable.” She squinted at him. “I will not question your business, Mr. Grover, but if you bring trouble or strife to my establishment, I promise you I will have Sheriff Richter here before you know it, and your new accommodations will be in the jail under the court
house—a place I have it on good authority is not nearly as welcoming as my home.”
Seth smiled. He had to give the landlady her due—she was a savvy negotiator. He offered her a firm handshake to seal their new arrangement. Of course, there was still the problem of Amanda, and that was going to take some work.
Certainly, while Amanda had given some evidence that she enjoyed talking to him and even wanted to know him better, she had not flirted. It was apparent that if she thought of him at all, it was as a potential friend and confidante, or as someone whose life was far more interesting than her own. Unlike the milliner, who flirted shamelessly through almost every meal, Amanda seemed quite immune to Seth’s charms. The truth was that her interactions with him were no different than her conversations with Ollie Taylor. Not that Seth needed the complications of a romantic entanglement at this time, but still, it stung that this woman seemed completely oblivious to his appeal.
Having gotten little sleep the night before and having been challenged by Miss Dooley to leave or stay, but not expect a refund on his room and board, Seth stood at the open window of his room and tried to figure out his next move—his next move that had to do with the Stock boys and their gang. What he would do about Amanda was another matter altogether.
* * *
After yet another full day—a Friday that gave her two days’ reprieve—Amanda said good-bye to Kitty and trudged back to the boardinghouse. She could not recall a time when she felt so weary or so drained of interest in doing more than making her way upstairs, washing her face and hands, and then lying on her bed until it was time for supper. She had just finished washing up when she heard a light knock at her door. She groaned and forced herself to her feet.
“Come in,” she called, and hoped she sounded more welcoming than she felt.